


Grey Lines

by RenaiRin



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Bad Parenting, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Other, Parental Abuse, Physical Abuse, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Tension, of course, the worst kind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaiRin/pseuds/RenaiRin
Summary: After all of this time, nothing had changed.It didn't matter if it was his mother, himself, or anyone else.That man would getexactlywhat he wanted, willing or not.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> ...10 is a vague number.
> 
> And this story in particular hits close to home. Thank you for your continued readership!
> 
> Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyLsPdOEBww (Right click to loop)

_Boom_.

At first, Akira hadn’t known exactly where the noise had come from. It happened so fast that his young mind couldn’t quite process it. What was that sound? The beige walls around his living room were comforting and mellowed out the various screeches and noises erupting from the kitchen to his right. The boy’s left hand was gripping his right wrist hard, he himself standing silently and nervously near the edge of the living room sofa.

It was his birthday. His parents had been in the kitchen making his favorite kind of cake. Akira wanted to help of course, but he was only allowed to watch from a distance because of his young age. So he glimpsed the process for a while before growing bored, soon retreating back to the living room to fiddle around with his favorite cat toy. The ravenette had been playing house with his midnight black feline when he had heard the voices inside of the kitchen raise sharply. At first the loud yelling had hurt his ears, and he tried to cover them the best he could with his cat tucked firmly underneath his right arm. Why were his parents being so loud? He hadn’t heard them raise their voices like this before.

But then the loudest noise he had ever heard in his life brought him jumping to his feet and darting his frightened gaze toward the kitchen. Akira’s mother was standing just outside of the doorway, her angered and shocked gaze peering straight into the other occupant of the white and black speckled room. Her usually wavy and beautiful hair was frizzed up and some strands were sticking out at awkward angles. She backed further into the living room, never noticing her own son softly call out her name in his confusion.

“Mama…?”Akira tried once more, this time barely a whisper when his father took one step out into the room. The boy flinched when he saw the look of rage and hatred in his father’s gaze, directed straight at his mother. The child had never see his father like that before. It scared him, a little more than he thought he should be, when he remembered how happy and joyful his father had been earlier. But then his father’s eyes shifted, charcoal black and burning with internal fire, and he was starring at the wall behind Akira’s mother. When the ravenette turned his shaking ash grey eyes in the same direction, he stilled unnaturally at what he saw.

In the plaster wall behind his mother, a large, rectangular baking pan was embedded within. It was hanging in the wall diagonally, over half of the steel swallowed by the beige of the paint around it. Small flecks of dust wafted to the floor and upon the hard wood there were small broken bits of plaster and insulation. Akira turned his head and was about to ask what had happened when his father’s hardened gaze snapped onto his small form.

“Akira.” His father started, eyes darkening dangerously in the process, “Go upstairs. Now.”

Akira normally would have questioned such a thing. What did he do to go to his room? But the faces his parents had were scary and foreign to him. Questioning them would be the wrong choice here. The boy decided to nod his head, gripping his cat toy hard to his chest as he jogged towards them, darting by quickly and catching a glimpse of his mother’s soft, reassuring smile as he rounded the corner near the damaged wall and ran up the stairs.

As soon as Akira had closed the door to his room the screaming erupted in a fury once more. It was loud and noisy and no matter where he sat, or how far he curled up underneath his bed sheets and pressed his pillow to his head, he could hear the racket. After a while he had started crying, wishing that it would stop soon when he could hear his mother’s sharp yelps and various things being thrown or broken.

Akira fell asleep sometime during the struggle. It was his fifth birthday.

And honestly, it hadn’t gotten much better from there.

Akira had thought about the various times his father would lose his temper at his mother; sometimes it was just a loud argument, but others it got physical. Although it was never as bad as to put her in the hospital, there would be notable bruises on her form every now and again. His father would apologize to her, and she would accept it. Every. Single. Time.

The reason for most of it was his father’s need to control his mother’s carefree and unbound nature. She was quite the rambunctious on her own, and even more so as a mother. More often than not she would err her husband in some way or another with her boundless attitude. The other half of it seemed to stem from other deeply rooted problems that Akira had been too young to understand.

He loved his parents, truly, but when the fighting began worsening by his tenth birthday, he wished they would just get a divorce. Wouldn’t that make everything better? He could still see them, they just wouldn’t be anywhere near each other in the process. Given, Akira was not justifying his father’s actions by any means. He really wanted to give him a chance though, even after all the threats like ‘ _If you get involved I’ll hurt you too! ´_ Even when, after Akira started involving himself in the fights, his father would slowly douse his flames and calm for the night.

The ravenette was lucky in a way; his father never went far enough to actually hit his son. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t felt the threats bur into his psyche and the ever-so-slight movements that would subconsciously make him flinch back in preparation. Separation would be one way to fix the problem, Akira was sure of it.

But that’s when the hope of divorce was crushed and everything got even worse. His dear, loving mother had become sick. Permanently. It wasn’t necessarily terminal per say, but she would live with this sickness for the rest of her life and there would be no way for her to live on her own. Supportive as he could muster, his father decided the best thing for everyone was to stick together and help each other through it.

“You’re going to need to help out more.” His father said once his mother had retired to bed for the night.

“Yes, sir.” Akira responded. Through all of the fighting and abuse he had changed. No longer was he nearly as expressive as he once used to be when he was younger. Where he, much like his mother, was always slightly wild and free spirited; he had slowly drawn into himself if only to appease the fire his father would every now and again attempt to direct at the child.

Akira had slowly pushed people away, keeping them at arm’s length. Not that it was hard to do; most people his age had always viewed him as a pariah. Once close friends had become school acquaintances and relatives barely knew he existed. The town he lived in didn’t know he was there. It wouldn’t be a problem for him to help around the house because, in reality, aside from school work there was nothing else for him to do.

It worsened after his mother grew too weak to hold pots and pans without her hands shaking like leaves in the wind. Slowly but surely, he took on the daily household chores.

Slowly but surely, he learned how to cook and prepare the family meals.

Slowly but surely, he forfeited his childhood away to become the perfect little ‘lost child’.

As his father became the only full time worker of the family and his mother wasted away inside of their home, Akira stopped asking for things. Stopped wanting anything other than the near-constant routine of formality to end. His mother was loving and supportive but she had dulled in her affections and became a quiet recluse, only surfacing her true emotions every great now and again. It was like watching a stranger walk around their own home. No longer was she nearly as free and bold as she was before. After all, how can she be when confined to the walls of their home? Akira long since thought his own mother, in part, had died and accepted the quiet reality he lived in.

His father, however, had only sharpened his own edges. It was one thing for Akira’s father to direct his enkindled rage at his family, but it was another wholly different thing when it was reserved and built up through the new stresses in their lives. When Akira failed to do certain things the way his father wanted, there would always be a sharp glance waiting for him and a silent promise that the boy would need to do better _or else_. The shivers that ran down the ravenette’s spine only faded to the repetitive thoughts that he would rather not incur his father’s wrath and so he would perform as expected.

Akira noticed a change in the pattern; the fighting shrinked down to minor arguments, almost infinitesimal things. Although, his father’s temper was still short, and the smallest annoyance would result in a tiresome charade of shouting and demanding more things be done by the time he got home that night. The only solace was the fact his father seemed to live at his workplace. The less he was home and the more he worked, the less time he had to antagonize his family.

It was mentally and emotionally draining living with one person who was a walking corpse and another who was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at a moment’s notice. And through it all Akira stayed the same quiet, introverted character. He barely knew of the line\--between this couple’s son and the nursemaid he was taught to be--that he was walking day in and day out.

Everything started blurring together. One day was lost to the countless others as time flowed on. He barely kept track of time as he grew older, more infected by the routine, ensnared by the cycle and trapped by the weight of his actions. If he did not help, his mother would surely perish for _real_. If he did not help, his father would be furious with him. If he didn’t exist then maybe things wouldn’t be this way.

In a way his life and freedom was penance, and another it was the fuel to the growing rage he felt inside. Why did this have to happen to his family? Why couldn’t he be _n o r m a l_. Why would he rather stick his head in a book than talk with anyone his age?

Ah, the books. He adored reading. It was the one and only way within his small world he could escape and be anyone aside from himself. Far too many times he had been ridiculed and reprimanded for rather reading a good book than taking care of himself, or eating lunch in the cafeteria. Teacher’s worried for the first few times when he stayed behind in the classroom and forwent his sustenance for the joy and pleasure of being spirited away to another world. Eventually though, they came to ignore him like the rest of the children his age.

His father actually approved of the activity. “Reading is good for you, Akira. Knowledge is power after all.” He had said one evening before work. The steely eyed man was adjusting his tie in the small vanity mirror in the front door hallway when he noticed Akira curled comfortably on the couch invested in Twain’s _Huckleberry Finn_.

Akira just nodded his head, making sure to show respect by looking away from his book in order to do so. His father smirked and left without another word.

Akira’s mother, on the other hand, was absolutely overjoyed with the interest.

“Ah, you’re such a bookworm now days! I remember reading through things like lightning at your age. Your grandmother was the same way.” The boy smiled, darting his eyes up from his current book in appreciation and joy. His mother’s honest opinion and attention was hard to grasp and rarely viewed those days. If the subject had not been about the books they had read Akira would have set his book to the side to ask her more personal questions, get to know her better in her lucid and true state rather than the blank reflection she had worn over the past years. Eventually, a little at a time, he did. And in one of these precious moments, she had told her son one of the most important things in his life.

“Remember, Akira, there is freedom within those pages. All you have to do is know where to look for it.” Her warm, sunlight smile echoed in Akira’s head every time he recalled her words. So he went onwards, delving into books as his one and only lifeline to the outside world he craved and yet was far too afraid to be a part of.

Years had passed in the same tiresome routine. Everything felt mundane and lifeless as he tried his best to keep to the cycle of caretaker and student, only allowing himself to vent by burying himself into the closest book he had on hand.

It was around the time he had started _Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Thief_ , a book gifted to him by his mother (who had read it at his age and greatly enjoyed), that his entire world would take yet another turn in the wrong direction.

Or, perhaps, it was the right one.

It was a late night, walking back from the town library after returning a few other books he had finished. Akira knew he had to be home early, to start dinner and prepare his school work for the next day. Sunday’s were always the strangest, because he wasn’t entirely sure if they were going to be good or not. As much as he welcomed the six hour distraction of school every day, he could not find it on those long, quiet days unless he were to drown in the pages of literature he cared for so much. Other days he was not fortunate to be given time to do such things.

That day, however, was one such exception. Walking back towards his own home Akira thought about books he had not quite finished yet. It was only a few days prior his mother had given him that daring crime novel, and he was only a third of the way through it. It was quite jesting so far-- he particularly liked Sonia’s reactions to events and the absolutely absurd schemes the thief would think of. The young ravenette decided to finish reading it as soon as possible when he heard the first quiet quip of an argument in front of himself.

He was no stranger to such things, nor were a good few of the townsfolk. Akira honestly thought it was just a small couple skirmish before the arguing grew louder. The stench of alcohol hit his nose like a tidal wave and the young woman trying desperately to get the drunken man off of her sent familiar waves of nausea through his lithe form.

“Get in the damn car!” The man slurred, face beet red and hands gripping hard as the woman was turned around swiftly. Akira hadn’t yet noticed he stopped right beside the sidewalk where the woman was pleading, eyes wide with fear as she locked her auburn gaze onto his form. It was far too familiar for his tastes and he found himself clutching his hands into hard fists from the rage he felt.

“Help! Help me!” The woman cried out, and something inside of Akira snapped. He quietly walked forward, trying hard to control his wrath as he swiftly turned the man around, trying to offset the man’s attention and allow the woman to flee. But, as soon as the man turned around his feet fumbled underneath him, and he went crashing down to the ground and hit his forehead hard against the metal railing beside them all.

At first Akira wondered if he had been the one to cause the fall. Did he pull him off too suddenly? Too forcefully? No, he realized as he stared down as his open, palm-up hands. The man had sound footing after he turned around. It was only when he tried to step towards the young boy when he fell. But then the man, blood dripping down his face, glared up at the ravenette with a passion to kill and look all too familiar as the words he spat from his mouth ran through Akira’s ears like lightning.

“ _Damn brat, I’ll sue!”_ Those ill fated words continued to ring through his skull, paving the way for more racing thoughts as he was carted off in the back of a police car. Everything after he had been dragged into the police station was a blur; cuffs nipping at his wrists as he was positioned for a mug shot with terrified and glazed over eyes. All he could think about was what his father would do to him when, or _if_ he got home. Akira hadn’t done anything wrong! He was just trying to help…

Only after a few hours of racing thoughts and stressful pacing did he get his answer. As his father stood on the outside of the white iron bars he had been kept behind, annoyance and anger etched deeply within his face and arms crossed tightly in front of himself; Akira noticeably whimpered and curled into his trademark slouch, gripping his right arm close to himself with his left hand. He kept his head down as he was finally led out of the station and away from the building, the cool and crisp night air only soothing his aching soul for a brief second.

Akira couldn’t exactly tell how furious his father was, but he knew it was bad as the man had refrained from saying even one word to his child during the entire car ride home. The silence was unbearable, but it was the thoughts of how he would probably get hit for sure that were piercing the cracks in his foundation. When they pulled up into the driveway, the nervous tension that pitted itself deep within the ravenette’s stomach only swelled and caused the air to thicken in the boy’s throat.

Again there was silence, his father waiting until they had finally headed into their home before slamming the door hard behind them both. The force of the impact shook the walls and made Akira flinch violently, turning around abruptly only for his father to grab his shoulder tightly and press him into the wall. The look of pure malice bore into Akira’s trembling form as he kept his hands at his sides, pressing his fingertips into the smooth beige wall behind himself.

“You _idiot child!_ What in the hell were you thinking!” The man’s voice boomed into the boy’s ears, easily gathering his full attention and removing any sense of safety in the process.

“Papa, I-“Akira had started, before the hand on his shoulder dug it’s nails in and the other hand slammed hard into the space next to his head. He heard the plaster crack and reverberate through his form as his father glared hellfire into his son’s wide eyes.

“Don’t give me your excuses! You know damn well to keep yourself out of other people’s business! Now you’re being charged with assaulting that man!”The anger in his father’s voice was laced heavily with disappointment. The teen thought he would drown in the hatred before he would ever be free of it. It never left his mind exactly how close that hand had been to his head, how easily that he could have been hit but for whatever reason, his father chose to hold off for now. Of course, everything his father had said echoed in his head and he couldn’t help but feel like it was true. If he hadn’t gotten involved he wouldn’t be pinned against the wall with a raging bull in front of himself. The wet tears pooled in the corner of Akira’s eyes as his father continued on.

“Do you have any idea _what you’ve **done!?**_ The things I have to deal with now, because of **_you!_** ” Akira stilled, his lungs stopping mid breath as he remembered most of his thoughts from the jail cell. If he was sent to juvie, what would happen to his mother? She couldn’t take care of herself in her current state without great difficulty and frustration. And his father had placed the housework onto Akira. If he wasn’t around to help…

“Go to your room. Now.” The look in his father’s eyes softened a shade, turning more ebony than charcoal. The grip left his body and the hand pulled back from its place on the wall. Akira just stood there, dumbstruck. Wasn’t he going to be punished? Or would it come later? Why was he being allowed to leave in the middle of this? It only took a second more before his father’s gaze re-hardened and set itself onto the ravenette’s once more.

“ **Now, Akira!** ” The sheer fury that was put into those words elicited the tears, a steady stream falling down his face as he jerked away from his father and ran up the stairs, shutting the door to his room a little too loudly before he threw himself into the furthest corner of his bed, curled up in a tight ball as he gripped his hair hard and wept.

It wasn’t the volume of the words that made him finally crack and give into the strong desire to cry his eyes out.

No, it was how they tore through his defenses and corroded his heartstrings. Every feeling Akira had of how his father was right; he shouldn’t have gotten himself involved, he shouldn’t have angered his father, felt foreign and misplaced as he repeated the words inside of his head back to himself, over and over again.

_It’s all my fault._

**_It’s all my fault._ **

**_ It’s all my fault. _ **

He never realized he had been muttering the words out loud before he fell asleep curled into someone’s arms.

_______________________________________________

The days passed in monotone colors, muted feelings and loss of words. Akira kept his head down and did as he was told, not wanting to do anything else that would set off another barrage of anger and hate in his direction. Too much had happened in the weeks moving forward; he had been expelled from school, shunned by the townsfolk as a troublesome kid and constantly reminded of his failure as his father dragged him home from the courthouse that had ruled him guilty.

So many things were going wrong; it wouldn’t have surprised Akira if he were to keel over dead from the stress alone. The glares and remarks the local’s directed at him caused him to pull further into himself than he already was. His father would stare down at him with immense anger and rage, often not saying a word as he left to his workplace and did not come home for the fourth night in a row. Akira knew it was because of him; his father couldn’t stand to be around his own son. The only solace and kindness he was shown were from his mother, ever so gently comforting her son and making sure to keep an eye on him as he worked around the house or read.

Even the reading did nothing to help him through his situation. Try as he may, he couldn’t concentrate on the books like he used to. Once able to throw himself into the fantasy worlds as easy as the sun comes up, but no longer as he tossed the worn hardcopy to the side of his bed and pressed his pillow to his stomach. When would it get better? Would he ever stop feeling like the world was crashing down around him? The only person that seemed to care was his mother, and yet she could do nothing to stop him from being arrested, expelled, and marked as a criminal for the rest of his life.

Living wasn’t really _living_ anymore. He floated, drifted from day to day in the same cycle he had been stuck in before his fondness for books kicked in. The only thing he had to look forward to was his renewed chance in Tokyo, where his probation period would be held and he would have a very slim chance to redeem himself at the one and only school that would take him in. At first the news of his departure was mixed; he wanted so badly to be anywhere than where he was, stuck in that town of gossip and lies was suffocating and he had wished time and time again to be struck down by it all just so it would _end_.

But on the other side, he did not want to leave his mother. She was already so frail and destitute as is; if Akira was not there to take care of her then who would be? His father was out of the question—numerous times he had been forced to care for her on his own and he ended up on the borderline of a new fight when Akira had stepped in and taken care of it. If not the ravenette or his father, then who would care for her?

It seemed like such a gift and curse at the time. A distant relative of his had agreed to care for his mother for the year he would be away, although it was only most days of the week. The rest was up to his father. Akira was relieved, but couldn’t help but scream at himself internally for allowing it to happen in the first place.

And so he left his small town and headed for Tokyo on the cramped, dull train within two weeks time. Nobody had been there to send him off. No one had wished him well or said goodbye. The ravenette was merely instructed to head to the station and be on his way, along with a small gift from his mother for his year away.

 _Something to think of me by_ , the note within the black, rectangular box had read. A pair of large, circular glasses sat upon black satin. The frames were smooth to the touch and in looking through the lenses Akira noticed that they were fake. An idea popped into his head that he should wear them to Tokyo, and so he entertained it. The item was so reminiscent of his mother in the way she knew he would want to hide himself away from the world. And if he was going to be stuck in one of the biggest cities in the world, then he would be damned to stand out and cause more trouble.

Little did he know what was in store for him in Tokyo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This is probably the shortest prologue ever that I will write. Cool. ~~I lied~~


	2. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, baby! And it's a nice long chapter too.
> 
>  
> 
> **You know the drill, Right click to loop. No lyrics.**
> 
>  
> 
> https://youtu.be/3VDkf7ckTVI

Nearly as soon as Akira exited the subway station in busy Shibuya, his entire world was shaken by the unexpected surprises the city held. Never had he thought he would make such friends, stumble across such bizarre and otherworldly places, things, and _power_. The busy bustle of the city had worn him down in the initial days, and he spent many more running around and becoming used to the fuss. The distant adults and judgmental looks of his peers stung already-open wounds, but the two smiling faces he found in the blondes he could firmly call his ‘friends’ were welcome and cherished. And then the fantastic rush of finally, _finally_ , being able to tell that self righteous prick to go to hell was one of the most satisfying things the young man had ever felt in his life. The faint burn of the mask where he had stripped it off of his skin days prior could still be felt with every smirk.

The wild flames within the ravenette’s heart burned brighter and grew more vicious and refined with every Memento’s target. The growing number of individuals Akira had come to help, fight alongside, and trust knew no bounds. Once uncaring adults flowered strong bonds with the teen and he finally understood what a family _should_ feel like. It was as if he was finally able to cross the boundaries between his reality and those of the worlds beyond the worn prints of paper within his books.

It was so easy to forget he had ever had such a different and secluded life prior to Tokyo. The slight jumping at loud noises and the subtle flinches away from another’s touch faded to tolerable and rare occurrences, and the blank mask he wore gained new expressions and meaning. Akira could express himself more definitively than ever before, and with every new confidence he took, the more dangerous and fascinated he grew. The raw emotions and power he felt were addicting. If this was what it was like to be in control, then all the ravenette wanted was to bottle it up and take it with him everywhere he went.

And so he did.

The years of having to play the middle ground to the adults in his life paid off with his unbreakable calm demeanor, and the quiet that came with it was far louder in his head as he thought and planned for every possible outcome. Stealing hearts was one thing, but the effects of them were another. Such as the increasing group of Persona users he found surrounding himself, as well as the danger of their exploits becoming more and more publicly recognized. Soon his main focus aside from school was thievery, and there was not room for much else. The distant thoughts of home and the stagnant air surrounding the topic were brushed to the back of his mind.

And there they stayed until November came around. The sudden rush to concoct a plan to allow himself to be arrested, added onto the stress of his caretaker finally figuring out his secret parade as a Phantom Thief trudged up the muddled memories of home that slowly ate away at his mind. Akira finally felt freer than he ever had before in this city of new beginnings, but there was always that silent calling of his name, the voice of his father screeching through his head at night when the nightmares of what _could_ go wrong prevented him from proper sleep.

The interrogation only made it worse. Akira knew there would be no real way around the chance of getting injured. He would be at the mercy of whom ever was on the other side of the law. It was all worth the risk, he thought, as long as his friends and family were safe in the end. He had endured so much already, and the violence from his home was not so different from the violence in the metaverse. The teen would be able to take it, or so he convinced himself.

But with every punch and kick and surge of excruciating pain that covered his skin and clothes with an ugly maroon color, he couldn’t help but think of his father. The habits returned full-force of flinching away from others and backing up instead of standing his ground around the adults, something his team member’s noticed but only attributed to the potential trauma of being isolated in a steel cell and dubiously questioned for hours on end.

Akira covered it up nicely, forcing himself to stand closer to Sojiro when he was helping in the café, or expecting the lazy arm that would wrap around his shoulder whenever Ryuji was in a particularly good mood. It was easy enough before to learn his partner’s ticks and habits, he need only apply the technique to bear them more casually.

And so everything went back to relative normalcy. As the fighting grew to its climax and the true extent of the corruption was revealed, Akira had little time to fret over the smaller worries in the back of his mind. Defeating a god was no easy task, however cumbersome it had become. But even after the grand event, and through the chill of the snow falling through the air, he still felt like something was off. Like the teen was forgetting something largely important.

Even after Sae had come to tell him of the news that he would need to be arrested again, and testify at the impending trial, the feeling did not go away. It only grew stronger as he silently left the café Christmas morning with the police, a steady unease as he was lead into the juvenile hall facility and questioned hours and hours on end before finally finding some resemblance of peace and quiet in the solitary confinement room he was to be staying in. Akira worried not over his current imprisonment; he found solace in the fact he had done the right thing, and his friends and family would no longer suffer by the hands of other corrupt individuals. But in the long silence that accompanied the room, he couldn’t help but think of how eventually, somehow, he would have to return home.

Akira had been very keen on the fact his father had not once contacted him, or vice versa. Every now and again a simple phone call would arrive from his mother, and he cherished those moments. When he was alone or working diligently on many of the tools or plans the thieves needed, he always wound up wondering if she was alright. A simple thought here or there that she would enjoy something he had done, or like to hear one of his stories about how life was in the city. The young man had also garnered a new collection of books that he desperately wanted to share with her. Even if it was the only reason he had, he wanted to go home to see her again.

The ravenette’s father, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Through Akira’s new friends and allies he had become aware of exactly how _wrong_ his home life had been. Though he had not expressed it to anyone before, the facts still remained about how his father made him feel responsible for causing trouble and for not following order’s like a good lifeless doll. It sickened him in retrospect, how he blindly believed the man when he had turned the tables on his own child further by placing blame of the entire arrest on the teen. Internally he scolded himself for ever believing that man. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but that irredeemable bastard who called himself a ‘politician’.

The pang that rung inside of Akira’s chest in thinking about that man caused him to grimace, laying on the simple cot in the confinement room in what he presumed was the late of night, and his focus shifted to Akechi. The one and only person who resonated with him about their shared pasts, and exactly how close Akira himself had come to crossing that line between questionably right and dangerously _wrong_.

It scared him, in a way, to think of how far Akechi went into his own despair for not feeling welcome by the world, and how his father--no, that _man—_ (Akira refused to call that man a father to anything but his own selfish pride and wrath) abandoned Akechi like some unwanted _thing_. It scared the teen to realize how similar and close he was to Akechi’s position. How easy he could have pulled that trigger, given the chance with the wrong motivations behind him.

Behind all of the pain, Akira genuinely thought Akechi to be a kindred spirit. He was kind and polite, and wanted friends just as badly as the ravenette did when he first came to Tokyo. It saddened him deeply, knowing what Akechi had done and why he had justified it. He could still hear their promise ring out from behind the partition separating them. The thief found himself gripping his shirt over his heart when he remembered the gunshot echoing throughout the ship, the silence that befell them all and Oracle’s words of dread bringing his heart to his throat. Joker hadn’t the time to grieve; he had a promise to fulfill after all.

Akira, however, did. When Shido finally confessed his crimes on the morning of the eighteenth of December, the teen finally got his cold, hard vengeance on the man. The rest of the day was a blur, processing the sacrifice Akechi had made. It was needless; Akira knew the thieves would have been able to take on those shadows and the cognitive Akechi easy, but he also knew the end result of it all would have been Akechi owning up to his crimes and going to jail, if not being the one testifying in Akira’s place. The ravenette knew Akechi well enough to know he wouldn’t have wanted to rot in jail forever, and it was such a slim chance of him being free after all of the murder’s he helped commit. In a way, Akechi’s death was still atoning for the deaths of the others, and in another, it was his own way to get out of repercussions for it all.

Akira hadn’t been able to come to any conclusion except for this; he missed Akechi as a friend, no matter how one-sided it may have been, but he also was not entirely sorry for the outcome that befell the so-called ‘detective’.

The thief knew he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, come to the same conclusion Akechi had. He had no need to kill anybody, no matter how awful the circumstance. Given, Shido and Akira’s father were on very different wavelengths when it came to ideals and methods of enforcing them. But in a way they weren’t so different from one another; ruling by fear, threatening violence and severe punishment. No, Akira wouldn’t let it come to that. He was better now, stronger than before because of his bonds that were only sharpened with time. He knew when he returned home, there wouldn’t be anything keeping him from expressing his true feelings on the matter, backlash be damned.

So when he finally was freed from his imprisonment, his record cleared and his family only vaguely told of what had happened, he couldn’t help the rising unease of not truly wanting to separate from his new found family and leave. The looks his partner’s gave him during his goodbye’s stuck to his throat like honey and weighed him down. Every subtle “Do you have to?” rang through his eardrums and only earned a slight smile in reply. In all honesty, he did not want to return home. But his mother was there, waiting for him. His father may be unforgivable, but he wanted to make amends, somehow. At least give him one more chance to be a real _father_.

One more year; one more try. It couldn’t hurt, could it?

The sea breeze felt warm against Akira’s face as he stuck his head out of the top of the van’s sunroof, the wind whipping his hair out of his face as he gazed about the busy road in front of them. Sunlight shone off the edge of the rickety old vehicle, every bump felt throughout his lean form as he caught himself from nudging into the edge of the roof’s opening, a gentle sigh leaving his lips as he smiled.

“Hey, whatcha lookin’ at?” Ryuji asked, grinning as he tried to pop his head out between the ravenette and the roof, but sadly there was no allowance for it. Only a soft hum greeted the blond as Akira glanced down at him.

“Ryuji! Stop hogging all the space or Akira won’t be able to come back down!” Ann’s bell-like voice rung throughout the car, and the thief couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw her hand grabbing Ryuji’s shoulder and yanking him back into his seat. He took the opening as a sign to climb back into the van and shut the sunroof while the familiar banter of the blondes arguing filled the background.

“I was only askin’! No need to pull on me like that…”

“Knowing you, you’d probably fall out the first chance you get.” Futaba chided in, her eyes never leaving her phone as she typed away on the device furiously behind the group. Yusuke kept his eyes out the window, ignorant to the recent event, his hands forming their usual picture-taking stance as he muttered beside the ravenette.

“I would like to stop to paint this sometime, and also on the drive back, since it will be a fascinating sunset.” A sigh erupted from Ann’s mouth; her hand reaching up to twist at her pigtail beside Futaba.

“Yusuke, we have a schedule to keep. We don’t have time for you to paint the day away when we’re supposed to be taking Akira home!” Morgana, who was propped on her lap and curled into a tight ball, perked his ears back due to the commotion. It seemed he had been asleep.

“What’s going on now? Can’t a guy get some rest before seeing his new home?” Akira smiled and faced himself to the front where he spotted Makoto glancing at him through the rear-view mirror.

“Enough back there, or I _will_ stop this car and turn around.” Haru giggled beside her in the passenger seat, a single hand rising to the front of her face, cupping her left cheek gently.

“That sounds like a pleasant idea, Mako-chan!”

“I would very much like for you to stop, so that I may paint this breath-taking view.” Yusuke muttered under his breath, not yet grasping the entirety of the situation.

“Don’t tell me you brought your canvas’s again…”Ann chimed in, an annoyed look spread across her face.

“Does that mean Akira would be coming back with us? I’m down for that!” Ryuji leaned in and wrapped his arm around Akira’s shoulder, jostling them both back and forth before he settled in his seat with a happy grin.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind, but that’s up to our Leader.” Makoto mused, her ruby eyes locking on the ash-grey ones through the mirror. “Are you sure you have to go home?”

“Yes.” The pleading in her voice unmistakable and quite adorable, Akira simply smiled in her direction and enjoyed the noise of his friends chatting about the sea.

They had been on the road for quite a while, and it never ceased to fill his heart with warmth when he thought about how his friends surprised him by driving him back to his hometown themselves. They were reveling in the scenic route the entire ride; from the city fading in the background and the trees becoming larger, greener, and expansive, to the wonderful ocean views as they closed the distance to the country town Akira was from.

The closer they got the more nervous Akira became. He hadn’t seen his parents for a year, and his friends were now going to meet them to boot. Plus there was the fact Morgana would be staying with him, something he only convinced his father to allow by stating it would help his mother to feel less alone in the house. As the sun began to descend in the sky and the van finally reached the outskirts of the town, the teen couldn’t help the nervous expression he wore.

“Somethin’ wrong, Akira?” Ryuji started, a questioning gaze drifting over the ravenette’s form along with the orange slits of sunlight shining through as Makoto followed the directions sounding from Haru’s phone.

Akira only shook his head; faking a small smile as one by one the other thieves noticed their leader’s behavior.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Ann asked, her hand reaching over the seat to rest on his forehead under the curls. He sighed and pulled away from her, simply turning his head back to gaze on her form. Soon he wouldn’t be able to see any of them in person, and the sad truth of the matter only caused him to cast his eyes down towards the floor.

“I’ll just…miss you all.” Finally settling on the right words, the van came to a stop in the driveway to the place he once called home. The rumbling of the vehicle ended when Makoto pulled out the keys, turning in her seat to face Akira head-on.

“Akira. I know there’s no changing your mind about this, but no matter what we’ll always be together. We’re the Phantom Thieves after all.” The smiles and cheers of agreement that cascaded through the van forced a genuine smile to his face. Futaba wrapped her arms around his neck from the back of the ravenette’s seat whist shouting into the air.

“Yeah! Besides, there’s no way we won’t stay in touch with all of our phones connected through my masterful system!” The giggles that erupted from her mouth were mischievous and elicited nervous laughter from Ann and Ryuji.

“Please tell me you’re not bugging all of our phones. You do realize that we’re not supposed to be doing anything illegal anymore, right?” Makoto chided in her dangerously-close-to-upset voice, and the bespectacled girl merely chuckled and let go of her older peer.

“Who said anything about illegal?” The eye roll the girl received from the brunette only caused Akira to think how he would miss the banter as one by one, every member of their group exited the car with their leader in tow.

The house was nothing special. A simple driveway, simple doors and windows; it was the epitome of modern and generic housing. Morgana had climbed out from the car; standing tall and proud as his ears twitched and he looked over the two-story home with a ponderous gaze. Yusuke was starring at the building with silent contemplation, Ann and Ryuji bustling over the wide expanse of forestry surrounding the backside of the abode, and the last three thieves surrounding Akira as he readied himself for the encounter with his parents. Before he could even take one more step away from the van, the front door to the house opened and with that came his mother.

The woman was in her early forties, her long, wavy ebony hair trailing to the middle of her back. She wore a simple peach cardigan and sweatpants, slippers dragging across the concrete ever so slightly as she walked forward. Her frame was a little too thin for Akira’s liking, but the smile on her face as she gazed at her son lovingly was the best sight he’d had of her in recent years. Pushing all doubts and frets aside, he met her halfway up the walkway and embraced her in a tight hug.

“Oh, Akira. You’ve grown so tall…” She mused, pulling away just enough to gaze up at her son’s face. He was nearly four inches taller than her at that point, and he remembered being just around her height when leaving for Tokyo the year before. She chuckled in delight and reached one unsteady hand up to grasp her child’s face. He sighed and leaned into the touch, placing his own hand over her own. “Welcome home.”

“Mama…” the teen muttered, basking in her presence and savoring it, before opening his eyes that he hadn’t realized were closed and turning just slightly to give her view over to his friends behind him.

“Are these you’re friends I’ve heard so much about? You never told me they were visiting!” She looked over the crowd and smiled at each and every one of them, her eyes sparkling as she glanced back to her son, an approving smirk on her face. “Why, there are so many girls. Is one of them your lover?”

Akira could only blush and duck his head, another mumbled and slightly annoyed “Mama…” leaving his lips as Makoto stepped forward, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kurusu. My name is Nijima, Makoto.” The brunette bowed accordingly and received a light laugh in return. The glance Akira’s mother gave him spoke loud enough: _This is the one, isn’t it?_ He returned the look with a small nudge.

“There’s no need for formalities. It’s a pleasure to meet Akira’s friends; I know he only has so many.” Makoto stepped to the side, allowing the other thieves to follow suit.

“Hello ma’am, my name is Okumura, Haru!”

“My name is Ann, and this here is Futaba-san.”

“’Ello ma’am, my name’s Sakamoto Ryuji, but you can just call me Ryuji!”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Kurusu.”

“Yusuke, you forgot to tell her your name!” Morgana added in, but the noise was only interpreted as meows. The cat simply jotted up besides the ravenette and curled his tail around his front paws. “Introduce me to her Akira! And make sure it’s sounds good!”

“Oh, a cat? Akira, is this the cutie you were talking about on the phone?” His mother’s eyes sparkled like a child’s when they landed on the proud fluff ball near his feet. She hummed with affection, and it pleased him to know she would be spending a lot of time near Mona.

“This is Morgana, but we call him Mona for short.”Akira stooped to pick up the feline, who screeched at the sudden motion before the whiny cat was placed into the arms of Ms. Kurusu.

“Akira! Don’t pick me up like that, you know I don’t like—ohh, t-that’s nice...I could get used to this.” The chatty boy calmed as soon as the teen’s mother settled the furry creature into her arms and began to pet him lovingly. Akira simply chuckled as Ryuji barked a laugh.

“Wow, your mom sure knows how to shut him up at least!”

“Zip it, numbskull!” Morgana hissed through a purr, earning a loving head scratch in return.

“Such a feisty one, isn’t he? It’s wonderful to see you all, especially such lovely young women.” The faint embarrassed flush that covered the ravenette’s face only lasted a second more, before a familiar figure emerged from the front door and stood tall within the shadow of the house, a hardened and empty gaze covering the lot.

Akira’s breathing hitched slightly, enough so that his mother took notice and flashed him a small look of concern. He returned it by focusing his eyes on his father’s form and produced a simple nod. He held back a grimace as he took a few careful steps towards the man who towered over his own height and sighed as quietly as he could.

“Hello, Papa.” Were the only words he could muster. That dull, burning gaze pierced his own, but nothing definitively dangerous emitted from the charcoal irises, yet. A few moments passed before a reply was even formed.

“Akira.” The man said, turning his gaze away from his son and onto the group behind him. “What are they doing here?”

The gears of instinct that had been pushed aside in the back of the thief’s mind began to turn, quickly he turned his gaze over his shoulder at his friends before speaking, making certain to make eye contact with his father after doing so.

“They insisted on driving me back.” The older man took a step forward, eyes fanning slowly over the forms of the thieves. The younger ravenette darted his eyes in his friend’s direction once more, locking onto Makoto’s questioning gaze before he snapped them back to his father’s.

“What happened to the ticket you paid for the train? Did you forget to refund it?” The sour coating the words carried gnawed away at the wall Akira had built so carefully, enough for a small wince and slight glare to break through in answer to the man above him.

“No, Papa. I haven’t forgotten.” Akira’s father clicked his tongue, arms folding over his chest before his gaze looked right passed his son’s face and to the woman behind him.

“Good. You know how tight money is around here.” The thief brought his left leg back just enough to lean on his right, tapping the toe end of his shoe against the concrete as he sighed and closed his eyes for a split second. The man he knew as his father was as hard and untrusting as a rock. Of course, no less than five seconds after he saw his son again, did he begin to weed out the flaws. The young man tilted his head up, gripping his right hand against his hip hard as he met the stone cold gaze in front of himself. Knowing how strict his father could be, the usual sassy remark would only earn him a cuff to the head. With his dear friends watching, the option was mentally crossed off the list. Plan two; appease the beast within.

“Shall we move this inside? It’s not proper to leave guests waiting.” The older man thought it over for a second, stepping aside of the doorway and tilting his head as to say “Go ahead”. The ravenette kept his calm as he allowed his mother to come to his side, grasping her hand lightly before giving the signal to his partner’s that it was okay to come in. Akira held his breath as he entered the house, only stopping for a second when his father uttered a comment low enough for only his son to hear.

“’Least you didn’t lose those manners in Tokyo.” It took all Akira had, teeth clenched and his free hand digging nails into skin, to keep walking and not respond.

The inside of the house was almost exactly as Akira remembered it to be. The beige walls were still bare with hardly any photographs, the long entry corridor opening up to the large living room to the right, with the staircase for the upper floors to the left. Starring down the hall as he toed off his shoes in the step down for the front door, he could see the open kitchen doorway with the same hues of familiar, but dull speckled tiles that lined the walls of the room. The light within was off, and shadows crept out into every dark corner. The teen shuddered and took the step-up, turning back while helping his mother up the same step. One by one his friends all followed him to the living room, where as he turned he could see the plaster repair from that birthday all those years ago, worn and faded, and if the young man had not had such a keen memory of every repair that accompanied more damage along the walls then he may not have remembered the faint outlining from where the new drywall met with old.

The room in itself was more mundane and dull than Akira had remembered it to be; possibly due to never having to leave it often, or maybe the various books he had finished within that room made the memories a little sweeter. He could only think about how he hadn’t missed this place, not even once in the entire time he had been in Tokyo. Every tiny detail the teen hadn’t noticed before came to rest on his brain like paperweights; exactly how many times he had dwelled inside the walls of this abode and never thought too much about _how_ often he over looked them? How many times had he gotten used to the screaming and yelling to drown it out enough to get back to his current task? When he could hear the faintest coughing fit in the middle of the night and without having to think about it at all, rush to his mother’s side to care for her? Why was it he was trained in every way to be the lifeless robotic doll they made him out to be?

And he was going to resign himself to one more year at this place...

A hand came down to rest on his shoulder, and with the gentle squeeze it gave he was pulled from his deeper thoughts, turning his head as Makoto gifted him a slight smile from behind him. In looking around he realized everyone was already settled, aside from the ruby-eyed girl and himself who were standing off to the edge of the doorway. Akira’s mother and Morgana were sitting nicely on the sofa on the far side of the room, Futaba next to her gazing around wondrously, her phone long forgotten in her hand. Perhaps it was growing politeness? Or curious amusement, the ravenette did not know. Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, and Haru all fit onto the larger couch on the opposite of the coffee table that separated the seating. In gazing around the room carefully, turning to face the brunette beside him who gave the thief her signature _“Are you okay?”_ look, Akira’s father garnered his full attention as he came to stand behind her and glance at his son in an odd manner. Part disappointment, part distain, Akira felt it pierce his chest and sting at long buried wounds when the man entered the room fully and sat down at the leather chair heading them all at the short end of the wooden table.

A few more seconds passed in muddled white noise as his friends continued talking to his mother politely, a few introducing themselves to his father before the ashen-eyed teen finally sighed enough for Makoto to hear, squeezing her hand back with a small smile on his face. _“We’ll see.”_ He blinked in her direction, his stiff features softening to show his genuine affection and gratitude for her presence. She simply responded with the tilt of her head and a brighter smile for his collection.

“Akira, would you fetch our guests some tea? I’m sure your friends would appreciate it.” The patriarch said in a tone that meant ‘no’ was _not_ an answer. The teen had barely moved from his spot hovering near the doorway to the kitchen, and one by one his partner’s added to the conversation.

“Oh yes! Tea would be lovely.”

“Would you happen to have Earl Grey on hand, Akira?”

“Yusuke; its _tea_. Be more polite! We’re guests here.”

“I’d much rather go for Akira’s coffee! His is so much better than Sojiro’s now!”

“Coffee?”, Akira’s mother mused, “Why I’ve never even seen Akira touch the stuff before!”

“Oh yes! Akira-kun makes wonderful coffee!” Haru added, smiling brightly on fond memories it seemed.

“Wish I could taste it someday..” Morgana mused, the sound earning him a scratch between the ears and eliciting a purr in the process. “Ohh…well, this is still worth it.”

“Coffee? Ick! No thanks, but tea doesn’t sound so great either... Akira, you think there’s a soda hidin’ in the ‘fridge? OW!”

“Shut it! You’re being a nuisance, Ryuji! Sorry about him, he’s just a little airheaded. Tea sounds great!”

“Oh it’s quite alright! Akira, you remember where the tea is, right? Second shelf in the cupboard near the stove.” The soft smile the teen’s mother gave him alleviated the foul mood he was begging to have.

“Of course, Mama. And for you, Makoto?” The ravenette turned to the girl beside him, smiling as she hooked her arm around his own in her own way of being bold.

“I think I’ll join you, if that’s alright?” Her candy colored eyes sparkled but he could sense the unrest beneath them. Seemed she was putting on a little show for them all.

“Always.” Akira turned into the kitchen and before disappearing into the dark space his eyes met his father’s hard gaze once more. He couldn’t help the shiver’s that ran down his spine at the muted fire within the charcoal irises.

Once the teen’s disappeared into the tiled room, and away from the noise and prying ears of his peers, Makoto stood tall near the opposite counter to the stove and watched as Akira found the familiar kettle for boiling water, setting it up on a back burner to heat as he reached up and grabbed the box of tea from the cupboard. It seemed some of the cupboards got dusty while he was away—he would be best off cleaning them some other day.

“So, what’s going on between you and your father?” Sharp and to the point, as per usual, the slate-eyed teen narrowed his eyes in contempt. He fished out two serving trays used for when his father’s friends were over and placed one mug for each member onto them equally.

“It’s complicated, and we don’t have enough time in the world.” The sound of ceramic tapping against wood was the only real sound aside from their breathing, and even the clicks from the kettle were drowned in the slight tension that filled the air.

“You can still change your mind and come home, Akira.” The teen turned around and saw she had begun to lean against the counter, slouching ever so slightly as her worried gaze glued itself to his eyes. “You don’t have to feel obligated to correct past wrongs. To stay here. There’s a place for you with all of us!”

“Makoto,” The tone of the thief’s voice lowered, darkening into a familiar but rarely used tactic in order to stop the young woman in her tracks as his newly-lens less eyes refocused on her own, his whole body stiffening before he let out a single breath, “I need to give them a chance. Besides, I don’t know how long she has left…”

Makoto’s face paled, her bangs brushing over her eyelids as her pupils dilated just enough for Akira to notice. It was at times like these where he wished he was still wearing those glasses his mother had gifted to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to hide from the world anymore; he had no need to. In the second it took for the brunette to register the words, she reclaimed her calm and straightened out; arms crossed over her chest perhaps a bit too tightly.

“I see. I didn’t know. I’m sorry for sounding so desperate about this.” As the water began to boil more within the kettle, the ravenette turned towards his lover and swiftly took her into his embrace.

“You’ll always be my Queen, no matter how far apart we are. We’re still underneath the same stars; don’t forget that.” In saying that, Makoto smiled and tilted her head back, Akira taking the chance to steal a kiss from her soft lips, enjoying the faint surprise of the brunette standing her ground and pressing back hard into the motion, arms wrapping around his neck in order to pull them even closer. They parted from one another in a minute’s time, her grip still clinging onto his skin as he turned around just in time for the kettle to begin its shrill wailing, letting them know the water was finished.

“Akira Kurusu, you’ll always be my Joker. Make sure you don’t forget _that_.” The chuckle that accompanied their improved mood was welcome. He started working on the tea as he spoke, eyes never leaving the ceramic mugs before him.

“I wouldn’t dare.” A seductively soft hum of approval later, the tea was brewing as the two enjoyed one another’s solitary company.

After ten minutes and a hasty rush to flatten out clothing into a more presentable look, Akira and Makoto carried out the trays of tea to the next room. The various conversations between the inhabitants was quite amusing; Akira’s mother chatting with Futaba and Ann over a photo album, Ryuji and Yusuke having a debate over coffee, and Haru simply petting Morgana--who had long since switched laps—All the while Akira’s father kept to himself, only nodding here or there when something from his wife was directed his way. Makoto immediately handed her tray out to the feisty boys, Akira mirroring her by following up with the girls. Morgana, right about to jump up and protest as he hadn’t seen a saucer for himself, was pleasantly surprised to see the ravenette had not forgotten about his companion; a simple bowl of warm milk awaited him on the hardwood floor where he could drink in peace.

As the group drank their beverages, Akira and Makoto stood by and watched as the conversations changed from one topic to another; the matriarch engulfed all too happily in the lives of her son’s dear friends and stories from when they had been in Tokyo. Everyone had something to say about the ravenette after all, and as the ruby eyed girl next to him began to partake in a fair bit of the discussion, the teen began to notice his father off to the sidelines. Watching. Waiting, perhaps? He clearly was not participating in the mild chit-chat. His eyes drifted around though, following what was being said, slowly coming to a rest on Akira’s form. The dullness began to sharpen a little, in a pondering sort of way. Still the fire burned within, but something about it had changed. Whatever it was, the young man had no time to figure out, because before long he heard his lover’s sweet voice filling the air in a slightly high-pitched gasp.

“Oh, the time! I’m so sorry to cut this short, but we need to be on our way if we’re going to make it home on time for school tomorrow.” Murmurs of disappointment and annoyance rang throughout the room, familiar enough that he could also smell the coffee beans and curry spices wafting in the air, and the familiar faint trail of cigarette smoke clinging to him once more. He was pulled from the memory as one by one his partner’s stood, all offering their gratitude for the tea and a goodbye to the thief’s parents, soon making their way towards his form leaning against the wall by the kitchen comfortably.

“Come on, we’ve still got your stuff in the van. Let’s help you bring it in, ‘kay?” Ryuji offered, and Akira took him up on the offer immediately. They only had the single duffle bag the teen had been carrying with him, but just the idea of escaping his father’s judging eyes was enough of a reason. Besides, he didn’t need to bother them with fetching it when he was fully capable of grabbing it himself. As soon as he had the bag over his shoulder, taking one last look at the rickety old van, he turned to his fellow thieves.

“Akira, you had better call us _every day_!” Futaba practically scolded, sticking her finger into his chest a few times to deliver her point before smashing her small form into him for a tight hug. He returned it with a laugh, allowing her a few moments before she plucked herself away from his grip and went back to her place near Ann’s side.

“Yeah man, keep in touch! I mean, we’ll see you on holidays for sure, but you’ve gotta tell me about all the stuff you do without us!” Ryuji gave the ravenette a quick over-the-shoulder hug, before passing the baton to the next group member.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will miss your absence greatly.”

“Akira-kun, please make sure Morgana stays out of trouble!”

Finally, it was Makoto’s turn. She walked up to his form in a dainty manner, unsure of herself before stopping in front of him and throwing her arms around his neck one more time. She fixed her candy eyes onto his slate irises, and he secretly wished they could stay like that forever.

“Akira.” The single word floated from her mouth like honey, expectant. Waiting. And soon the teen felt a furry mass rub up against his leg before he too spoke.

“Kiss her, you idiot!” The cat hissed, only loud enough for his companion to hear. Not even halfway through Morgana’s sentence did the thief do just that.

“Ohh!” Some of the group cooed, another making some kind of squeaking noise and a few other sounds the ravenette couldn’t quite make out, his ears the only way of knowing since he closed his eyes in order to make the action last as long as possible. The two pulled away reluctantly, and his hands rose from her sides to the young woman’s face.

“I’ll see you soon.” The smile he was paid for his words seemed surreal.

“I had better.” Makoto replied, before pulling away as slow as she could, until only their fingers touched, and then the bliss of contact was over. One by one his friends entered the van, signaling their goodbyes with waves or smaller last-minute yelps. Akira watched as his family slowly drove out of the drive way, the car eventually disappearing down the road until his eyes couldn’t spot the silver speck anymore. The only sign that someone had settled beside him on the concrete was the subtle sigh that tumbled out into the air.

“Oh Akira, you’ve met such delightful friends! I can see why you stick around them.” Akira’s mother spoke aloud, a pleasant smile on her face as she turned her head to look into his eyes. “I know you’ll miss them greatly.”

The teen could only nod his head, eyes sullen they drifted towards the ground in silent thought. He wouldn’t be able to see them physically again until summer break and that was four months away. Phone calls, text messages, and video chats were now his only source of friendship. Akira’s mother squeezed his shoulder once before turning to go back inside the house. Morgana sat still near the young man’s feet, waiting another minute before speaking.

“I know it hurts, but, at least you’ve still got me. And when you think about it, nothing can ever really keep us all apart. It’s only a matter of time, right?” The ravenette agreed, nodding his head and regaining some of his signature confidence back. The cat’s ears perked up and what appeared to be a smile spread across his face as he continued on.

“Well come on! You’ve still got to show me our house!” Morgana burst out, suddenly trotting towards the front door excitedly. As the teen turned on his heels and walked up the doorway, he was stopped by the arm that spanned from the jam to the towering person on the other side, staring intently down at the thief. A single sentence was spoken, halting Akira’s brain in its tracks as he processed it.

 _“Remember your place.”_ And with that, the man disappeared inside the house.


	3. Downhill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right click to loop. Both are instrumentals. Pick the one that suits your fancy.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjcazbvU1VQ
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDTGwERIILY

It was fairly easy in Akira’s mind to be thrown back into the routine of caring for his mother, doing the household chores, and being a student again. The housework was always the easiest, weather it was the cleaning or the cooking, and while he was in Tokyo this had not changed. Sojiro made sure to keep him busy if he felt the teen needed the distraction, and what a distraction it had become. Cleaning in some small way was stress reliving for the teen. He could almost hear Sojiro’s scolding again if he concentrated hard enough on the memories of the café.

Then there was the task of making sure his mother was taking her medication. Checking up on her in times where her mood was especially low was not forgotten and maybe even more frequent than they had been previously, but the ravenette kept up the pace. She was always interested in what he had to say about Shibuya, and what adventures he would allow to slip out from the cracks in his wall that were meant for her ears only. Besides, the teen had all sorts of new books for her to read with him, and since it was one of the few activities she could still participate in he was glad to add to her collection.

School, however, seemed to be more mundane and frighteningly similar to how it was at Shujin. Not even his first day back at his old school, the uniform feeling too tight on his body and vaguely wondering how he had dealt with it all these years, the other teenagers had no problem announcing their displeasure at his return. It was much harsher and foreboding than what it had been like in Tokyo, where the other students had not known him at all. But here in his home town, everybody knew everybody to some degree. Once so-called friends were whispering to one another in the hall as he walked past, and out of the corner of his vision he could see one stray hand stick out and point in his direction. Others were more open about it, usually calling out his name in a mocking tone. For one reason or another, people grew to actively hate him over the year he was away.

“Hey Kurusu! What’s it like to be a city kid, huh? Think you’re too good for us now!?”

“I heard Kurusu-kun was involved in a gang!”

“Oh really? I heard he was recruited by the yakuza! I wonder if he carries a knife…”

“Hey, remember Akira-kun? Yeah, he was arrested for assaulting that couple…I heard he threatened to kill one of them if they didn’t rescind his sentence.”

“He was such a quiet kid, I wonder why he snapped.”

With every mention of his name the teen couldn’t help the grip on his book bag tighten, keeping his gaze to the floor as he walked past teachers who were doing the same grousing thing.

“Kurusu-kun. I expect you to keep yourself out of trouble this year.”

“Just turn in your schoolwork and don’t be late. Such a troublesome kid.”

“Don’t bother me with your petty excuses and we should do just fine, young man.”

It was all Akira had to just stand there and nod to every little ‘suggestion’ or demand he was proposed. Hell, even Kawakami at first wasn’t this obnoxiously horrid to him! If he thought he had to deal with pretentious assholes in Tokyo, then his hometown was taking the cake by force.

The days ebbed off and on. His mother’s company was refreshing and comfortably quieter than the thief’s life running around the busy streets of Shibuya and fighting for his life in another dimension. A small part of him missed it, and the names etched onto his soul called out to him every now and again, but he knew his time dealing with such things was over. Not that Akira wasn’t glad for it; the stress of dealing with Shadows and his friend’s safety was all but missed. But every now and again he would catch himself daydreaming about that world again, the danger’s he faced, the familiar and warm silhouette of Arsene behind him, those clawed gloves resting on the teen’s shoulder as the being whispered an idea into his head…

It was also apparent by the way his father practically acted as if the ravenette had never left that things weren’t going to change easily. The man had implemented a strict curfew of seven o’clock every night, school-related or otherwise, in order to “Keep him out of further trouble”. The side-glances and sneers in his direction were not missed, and as the patriarch never spoke more than what was necessary in the child’s direction, conversation about the matter was shut down. Even when Akira attempted to talk to his father while he was not busy and in much better moods, he was treated as a nuisance, and usually followed up in conversation with some criticism or another.

“Have you taken care of refunding that ticket yet?”

 “Is the laundry finished? Don’t bother me until it’s done.”

 “Don’t you have schoolwork to complete, Akira?”

And with every remark Akira wanted to slam his fist into a wall. Why was it that his father went from being so indifferent to outright hating his own child? He had been proven innocent of a crime that he never even committed, and that still was not enough for this man! With his father and the peers at his school, he couldn’t seem to escape the constant hatred surrounding him. The only place he could find solace was at the library (alone, since cats were not allow on the premises) or the company of his mother.

The few good things the ravenette found himself enjoying was Morgana marveling about his new home and the video calls he would receive from his family in Tokyo. Sojiro even found time to chime in a few with Futaba around, always asking how he was doing, if anyone was causing him trouble—which he would only reply with a smirk—and how the feline was adjusting.

“You guys won’t believe it! There’s so many trees and bushes and all kinds of plants around here! There are a few stray cats that roam about, and Akira’s mom is really nice to me! She pets me all the time—w-which I don’t ask for! She just does it and…w-well, she pampers me like Boss did! It’s only fitting; I am an important thief after all!”

The cat had gotten used to the house within the first week, solidifying his favorite spot in Akira’s room upon his table or bed, and boy did the feline gripe about how small the room was! Akira was so sure Morgana would complain himself to death that he couldn’t help bursting out into laughter as the black-and-white fur ball roamed about the room and widened his eyes in astonishment. It took a while longer for the cat to give up complaining about it and finally settle into his new home.

Morgana was still as observant as always, however, and picked up on the increasing tension between Akira and his father within a few days.

“Hey, Akira, why is your father like that?”

“Hmm?” The two were in the kitchen as the teen was cleaning out the dusty cupboards that had been neglected in his absence.

“I mean, why does your father ignore you all the time and treat you so badly?”

The ravenette stood still for a moment, finding the right words as he narrowed his eyes and sighed, pulling away from the wooden shelf before him and tossing the washcloth onto the counter haphazardly. He turned to see those piercing royal blue eyes burrow into his own with a fierce intensity. He could almost see Mona flinch, which meant he must have been giving off a stronger vibe, especially since he no longer wore his signature glasses he had hidden behind in Tokyo.

“It’s complicated. He’s just stubborn and strict, is all.” The thief folded his arms across his chest, his tone full of _‘I don’t want to talk about it’_ , and the feline simply nodded his head after a moment, looking away towards the floor in deep thought.

“He seems like it. Maybe it will wear off after he gets used to you being back home.” The teen simply chuckled, turning back to his work before muttering something not even Morgana could hear under his breath.

“Yeah…that’ll be the day.”

A few weeks passed and nothing had really changed. Akira still ended up going to a school full of judgmental cliques, and his father still refused to talk to the teen for more than a few minutes each day. The longer this went on the sooner his book habit picked up again. With no one to talk to aside from his companion, and video calls only once every few days or so, the ravenette dove back into the comfort of his reading materials once more.  Morgana even found it hard to earn the attention and concentration of the ravenette once he was three chapters into a good book.

“Akira. Hey, Akira! Earth to Joker! What are you doing, falling into that thing!?” The thief couldn’t help but laugh, giving the feline a few pats on the head at the mention of his old code name. It seemed his companion had some adjusting to do of his own, and the young man vaguely remembered how his friend almost always called him Joker when they were alone. No longer Phantom Thieves, the cat began to adjust to regular names finally.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Morgana swished his tail back and forth, an annoyed look in his eye as he crawled onto the book resting in the teen’s lap and sighed.

“If you’re going to read, at least read it out loud! I want to know what’s going on too, you know! It’s hard to read over your shoulder, and at your fast pace too.”

“Mona, are you bored?” The thought hadn’t yet clicked into the teen’s mind, being busy with chores and schoolwork kept him from fully grasping the situation.

“Of course, idiot! There aren’t as many things to do here as in Tokyo, and it’s so quiet…not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just…well…lonely.” Akira knew how that felt all too well.

“I see. Well then, I wouldn’t mind reading it aloud to you. Have you ever heard of the book Arsene is from?” The cat blinked for a second, turning his head and starring at the ravenette with wide eyes.

“Book? What book? I don’t remember Arsene saying anything like that!”

“He didn’t have to. I already read it before he became my Persona.” The shocked mewl coming from the cat on his lap was awfully adorable and refreshing. The feline jumped up and placed his paws on the front of Akira’s chest, eyes wide and sparkling.

“What!? You read it and you never told me!”

“I’ve read it twice. Once here and once in Tokyo, after he appeared as my Persona.” The meowing grew loud in awe. It caused another chuckle to flit out into the air, and the ravenette crawled off of his bed in order to stand before the small bookcase in his room, searching for a moment before grasping a worn, faded-ebony covered book off of the shelf. The teen brought it back to his companions side, showing the cover of the book and silver printed title; _Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Thief_.

“Wow! Is he really based off of this book?” The cat pawed the hardcover and Akira nodded his head in his friend’s direction. In re-reading the title the feline noticed the author’s name, Maurice Leblanc.

“Hey, that’s—“

“Yeah. It’s Leblanc.”

“Like the name of the café!?”

“Yes. I asked Sojiro about it once; ‘said he just liked the name.” The meow that leapt from Morgana’s mouth in wonder filled a small void in Akira’s heart that he had noticed growing over the past few weeks. He simply smiled and opened the cover to the first page.

“That’s amazing…and what a coincidence, too. Say, do you think that god had anything to do with it?” The thief paused in his movements, a dark expression covering his face as his eyes narrowed in thought. He swore he could hear the cat gulp before he breathed a sigh into the air, glancing downwards towards his companion with a tired expression.

“I don’t know, Mona. I really don’t know. It’s possible.” The fur ball dropped the topic afterwards, simply reveling in the reading of the book that night.

It became their little treat. Once a day the teen tried to read one chapter of the book to his friend, marveling in his expressions and thoughts he would speak aloud, often times contemplating how Arsene was so similar to Akira himself, and how they truly did fit as mirror images of one another.

“He really is a lot like you, isn’t he? And they’ve only talked about him in passing so far too! Oh, oh! I wonder if he’s hiding as one of the characters! Wait--Don’t tell me anything! I want to figure it out for myself.” Again the young man nodded, continuing onwards with the reading as the night progressed.

Another week passed of this, and added onto the train of busy schedules Akira had finally gotten to take his driving test. He should have done it in Tokyo, and he knew Sojiro would have allowed him to do it, but he was far too busy running around the metaverse and shuffling part-time jobs in order to spare the proper time for it. The only good thing was he got tons of practice in while driving around that other world and with Makoto helping to coach the others, he even learned a good few tips and tricks from her.

 The date had been set a while back, and the few days prior he had been busy with other exams from his school and added chores to the ever-growing list. It seemed his father was now thinking of new things for Akira to do each day while he was gone. Mona was a large helper in helping the teen to study, and walking back home from the local test center that day he was proud of his result on the test. He aced it for sure, so the young man thought.  Walking up the drive way and just before he grasped the doorknob, the ravenette was surprised to see the front door swing open and in the doorway stood his father, dressed for work.

“Hello, Papa.” Akira replied, as nicely as he could through his now sour mood in seeing his father’s disdainful look in his son’s direction.

“Akira. Did you pass your test?” Again, straight to the criticisms. The teen bit back his anger and replied simply.

“I’m confident I passed.” The scoff he could practically hear in his father’s body language told him he must’ve said something wrong, _again_.

“Confident or _sure_?” The strange fire in his father’s eyes burned once again, and the thief couldn’t help the glare he returned to the older man.

“ _Sure._ ” The patriarch huffed, adjusting his tie before stepping forward into his son’s personal space, looking down at his child in annoyance.

“Good, at least you did that right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Akira turned as his father walked past him, making his way down to his car without so much as a blink in his son’s direction. He never even turned his head in reply.

“You’re grounded. You didn’t finish dusting and sweeping the living room like I asked. Don’t even _think_ about going to that damned library over the next week, understand? I’ve already relived you of your computer, just for good measure.” The words hit the thief like a mistimed dodge in the metaverse. He was frozen to the ground where he stood as his mouth dropped open, a flash of surprise and utter shock crossing his face.

“Hold on! You can’t-!” Before he could even reply, the car was already backing out of the driveway and disappeared in what seemed like an instant.

Akira stood there for a while, flexing his hand as he gripped the strap of his school bag over and over again, bangs overhanging his eyes in order to cover the piercing stare within his gaze, burning everything it connected with as a shade of hazy red began to cover his vision. Furious was an understatement. His father expected him to take this without a fight, even without a single breath to spare in protest. It was as if the man was dangling the thread that connected them as father and son in the teen’s face and toying with it, stretching its limits and watching it tear the further he went. The young man simply started walking toward the back of the house, past the boundary between the property and the wooden area behind it.

He kept walking, various things racing through his head as one by one he could hear those screams echoing in his mind once more _“It’s all your fault! You shouldn’t have gotten involved! If only you knew your place better.”_ Eventually, once far enough into the woodland and exhausted of feeling the rage within, the teen dropped his bag and _screamed_. Screamed so loud his voice echoed back to his ears in a strangled cry, throat growing hoarse from the misuse. Screamed far away from anyone’s hearing, so far away he could have sworn he was lost and wouldn’t be able to come back out. Screamed in frustration and anger and _hatred_. Why did he ever think he could give this man a chance!? What possessed him to come back to this living hell? He hadn’t done anything to deserve this kind of treatment, and he was trying so hard for _what_!? Just to be belittled and ignored and to live only as background noise in his father’s mind!

It took a while for Akira to stop shaking, to stop feeling anything as he curled around himself, slumped back as he sat beneath a tree. The sky was darkening fast, and he vaguely remembered the rain forecast for that day. He didn’t care. He wanted to feel anything other than the rage and hatred he was feeling right now. If only his friends were here, if only he had never left Tokyo…

It took the rain to realize the ravenette had been crying. At first, as he looked up to the sky with his head tilted back against the rough bark of the tree, he thought it had already been raining. But when the first droplets began to fall, and he noticed exactly where his tears left shimmering trails down his face, did he notice his own illusion. He waited until he could hear the thunder in the background, soft ripples of lighting illuminating the sky in the distance when he finally gathered the will power to stand, clutching his school bag without much care and returning home.

Morgana was awaiting him as he entered the house, sopping wet and eyes red rimmed from the stress. The cat of course was concerned he had been away for so long and soaked from the rain, but when he finally got a good look at the ravenette’s state he stopped his mewling and stood with a saddened look on his face.

“Akira…what happened? Are you feeling well? You’re not hurt, are you?” The thief didn’t respond, simply dropping his bag onto his bed as he noticed his feet had led him to his room, stripping off his uniform blazer and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

Drained. He felt drained of all care and emotion. Nothing was his concern at the moment aside from how cold he felt, and he thought about how it wasn’t entirely the rain’s fault.

“Akira, you’re worrying me. Are you okay? Maybe you should take it easy, a hot bath might do you good…” The genuine worry in Morgana’s voice was welcome, and the teen couldn’t help smiling softly in his direction, a solemn expression following as he slowly collapsed on the floor near his bed, exhausted and without the energy to do much else. He sat there and rested his head on his knees, curled into a ball as he heard Mona’s distant frantic meows and pitter-patter down the hall. A few moments later Akira heard soft, heavier footsteps and the concerned yowling of his feline friend beside them.

“This way! Akira’s acting strange! Quick, quick!” the feline whined, teeth grabbing at the hem of his mother’s pants and dragging her along to the door of the young man’s room.

“Oh dear…Akira? Akira, are you okay?” His mother sat on the bed next to him, rummaging around for something before the teen felt the soft embrace of a blanket being pulled over his form. He barely moved, barely _breathed_ as she waited a moment before continuing on.

“He did something, didn’t he? Something to make you feel like this?” Akira only nodded, and relaxed into the hands circling his back and shoulders. Another few moments passed and a soft sigh was the only noise as his mother squeezed his shoulders lightly. A furry mass pressed up against his side and leaned into him, the light movement of breathing relaxing him more as a quiet meow accompanied the silence.

“Akira…”The teen shuddered as the weight of the word ran through his spine, causing him to shiver in its wake.

“You’re soaking wet. You’ll catch cold if you stay like this for too long. Come on, I’ll run you a bath like I used to, hm? Sound good?” Drained and with dulling senses from the cold, the teen only nodded his head and slowly followed his mother out of the room.

The matriarch sat on the edge of the bathtub and ran the water, testing it with her hand for the right temperature before smiling in her son’s direction. He simply stared, lips parted slightly as the water ran and time seemed to pass in a rush and far too slowly at the same time. Eventually the bath was as full as it needed to be, and Akira’s mother gingerly unwrapped her son from the warmth of the blanket and patted his head, taking him into an embrace he returned painfully.

“I know it seems bad now, but he’ll get over himself. I won’t let your father bully you like this. Not while I’m around, okay?” the young man gasped, clutching her to his chest as the warm comfort of her body tried pulling away from his own.

“I don’t want him to hurt you again…never again…” The small sob that came out was unwilling, and he couldn’t fight it back as he started crying once more.

“Akira, I’m only going to talk to him. I simply won’t let him act like this towards you. So please, let me handle this dear.” The teen was too tired to argue, half dulled senses and nerves to boot, he nodded once more before she pulled away, tilting her head towards the bathtub.

“Okay young man; bath. Now. I don’t want you getting sick!” He waited for her to leave, shutting the door behind himself and doing as he was told. The bath warmed his body, but not his soul and the rest of the day went by in a blur; Morgana never leaving his side and watching over him from a comfortable distance. He noticed that night Mona decided to curl into his side as he slept, keeping a safe watch over him while the mood persisted.

The week passed as mundanely as possible, Akira opting to not even try to speak to his father but just do as he was told. He snuck a few visits to the library in any way for spite, and the laptop was no real issue since he was allowed to keep his phone handy. One concerned video call to Makoto let her know somewhat of what had happened, and even though Morgana became more insistent about never leaving his side, he still felt the haze and fog from that rainy day in a few lingering moments. The few joys he had were the most comforting, reading with Morgana or talking with his friends in Shibuya.

Until one night ended up changing them all for the worse.

His mother began to have a coughing fit one day, not too long after dinner had been made. At first it was just a minor thing, nothing to get too worked up about and a glass of water seemingly washed it away. But then the cough came back with a vengeance.

“Mama? Are you okay? Do you need more water?” The concerned teen asked, watching her carefully as she waved her hand after another cough and she attempted to speak.

“N-No, no. I think its just-Ack, j-just—“she never finished her sentence, spiraling down into a coughing fit so bad her skin started turning blue. Akira, in as calm a state as he could be, proceeded to call an ambulance, fearing something worse.

“Mama! Yes, that’s the right address. Hurry, please!” He waited for what seemed like an eternity, holding his mother close to him as the paramedics allowed her to breathe once again. Akira simply told Morgana, who was also frightened and worried over the matriarch, to stay put at the house. A few hours later the teen was sitting impatiently in a hospital room, his mother hooked up to however many machines as he bounced his leg up and down, elbows propped on his knees as he bent himself over in the chair and his mind ran through every possible outcome. Was she getting sicker? Was it something worse than what she already had? Or was it just a simple cold? Hours ticked by and the only real sounds aside from carts rolling and machines beeping was the sound of his mother’s relaxed breathing, sleeping away the coughing fit with only her son by her side. His father only showed up once the doctors had given the ravenette the simple news she merely had pneumonia.

Akira wasn’t sure how to feel. Thankful? Worried? She wasn’t getting sicker, but pneumonia could be fatal too, if not treated properly. The fact his father couldn’t even spare a second from work to see his wife in the hospital also spoke volumes, an irritating rage filling the teen’s mind as he yelled and screamed at the man internally. On the way back to their house in the early hours of the morning, Akira’s mother staying at the hospital until she recovered fully, he didn’t even look in his father’s direction. The house was still as he left it, kitchen and living room lights on, and a once-worried Morgana having fallen asleep on the floor near the sofa. Akira simply looked around, grasping a book he hadn’t quite put away yet, still unsure of how to handle himself, before taking the staircase to the upper floors, stopping outside of his room door to glance down at the end of the hallway where a simple closet door lay open.

“Strange…” Akira muttered to himself, tossing the book onto his bed before walking down the hall to the half-opened door. Inside were a few stacked boxes on a shelf, some old coats on hangars and a few scattered objects here and there. On the floor seemed to be an old photo album, probably knocked down due to the commotion from earlier, or some force of nature. Had it rained or stormed earlier? It was raining outside now, in the early hours of the morning. Maybe that was the cause of it? The young man picked up the dusty album and brushed it off, opening it for a peek inside at some very old, worn picture from when his parents were young. The smiles on their faces gave a view he hadn’t seen before; true happiness. The ravenette turned a few more pages to find one of all three of them, everyone happy and deceiving the camera with their masks. Or did they need them at such a time? He looked so young in the photo…

“What are you doing?” The question seemed to break all comfort and silence, the teen flinching and turning around quickly to see his father stooping over his form, arms crossed and an annoyed flicker of contempt peeking from every corner of the man’s face.

“It fell…I was just taking a look.” Akira’s gaze drifted back to the book as the man grasped it, practically yanking it out of his son’s hands.

“Snooping, you mean?” the patriarch’s features softened once his eyes fell onto the photograph, a solemn look in his eyes for just a moment.

“It’s not snooping when they’re photos of us.” The man dared to glare at the child, who in the last how many hours had been feeling awfully in the mood to snap at his so called ‘father’.

“Don’t get smart with me. Put it back.” The album was shoved back into the child’s hands, and he grimaced and stood his ground, tired of taking this kind of rough treatment from someone he was supposed to look up to.

“ _Why_. Why did this have to happen? When did you snap and decide everything needed to be solved with violence or hatred! I refuse to believe you were always this way! These pictures are proof. What changed!?” At the raised tone of voice, his father was quick to grab his son by the front of his shirt and drag him forward, two sets of irises glaring into one another as the most menacing and acidic words dripped from his father’s tongue.

“Don’t stick your nose into other people’s business, haven’t you learned your lesson already!?” Akira was not about to back down now, not giving a damn what would come next.

“What the hell is wrong with you!? What did I do to make you _hate_ me so much!” A sharp sound ricocheted out into the open air, the burn that crossed the span of Akira’s face felt vaguely familiar, but he didn’t have the time to process it because soon he was being shoved backwards, falling hard on his ass into the closet before peering up at the man, rage running through both of their eyes.

“You clearly need to learn how to speak to your father _properly_. You can come out when you apologize.” And with that, the door to the closet was slammed shut and the small tick of a lock was heard, Akira bolting for the handle and turning it as fast as he could, but without a single budge. It dawned on the teen throughout the various emotions running through his system, the adrenaline and pain from the slap across his face and the sounds of thunder booming outside, that this door had never had a lock on it before.

_When did this door get a lock!?_


	4. Tears of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned, my children of angst and fluff. Spread the word.
> 
> You know the drill. Right click to loop.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDTGwERIILY instramental, no lyrics

_“Let. Me. Out!”_

Akira screamed at the top of his lungs, pounding at the wooden door through the darkness with a painful consistency. The rain had turned into a full blown thunderstorm, and as the teen screeched and hollered near the door, hoping for Morgana to hear his cries and come to his aid, the bellows of deafening sound reverberated throughout the house and shook the ravenette’s bones. Adrenaline spiked, rushing through his veins. Terror was kicking in, about how he could be stuck in this small space overnight or longer, and so the thief clawed and kicked and rammed into the door without fruition.

There had to have been some crazy mistake. Was his father this daft or was he as drunk as Shido had been that night in town, so long ago? He couldn’t keep Akira stuck in here forever, and as the teen frantically searched about for something, _anything_ to pick the door lock with, his mind cleared just enough to realize exactly how labored his breathing was. Panic was setting in quickly and the burn of the slap was still warm on the young man’s face. A drop of something fell onto his shirt but in his efforts, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

With every crevice grasped, every pocket upturned and sharp, blackened object he ended up jamming into by accident, the thief couldn’t help his sobs of hatred, anger, and rage. Fear began to overtake his steel calm and as another minute went by without finding a hairpin or wire coat hanger he could fashion into a suitable, single-use pick, the teen growled and stood up in the small space. Pressing his back against the far wall, aiming towards the base of the doorknob, he produced as strong of a kick as he could muster in the small space to the door. Once; the loud banging of more silhouetted objects hitting the floor over took the pounding of the rain he could hear through the thin walls. Twice, and the door squeaked in resistance to the force, but still remained sturdy. The final time the ravenette kicked the door his entire leg hurt as if he had been pounding it on a brick wall and in his frustration, the exhaustion setting in from all of the worrying he had done throughout the day and with the booming thunder pounding in his ears, Akira fell to sit curled on the floor.

Heavy breaths ignited the cold air with their heat, the panic-stricken teen rushing through every thought in his head. How long would his father leave him like this? Would he be able to get out soon? Morgana was asleep downstairs, if only he could find a way to awaken his companion and allow him to open the door from the other side. What kind of lock was even on the door? Was it a simple turn-the-knob lock, or was it one that required a key? Akira hadn’t the faintest idea. The darkness began to set in more and the ravenette’s eyes began to adjust to the absence of light more comfortably, but the realization of this only brought forth a whimper form the aching back of Akira’s throat.

Fear. So much fear coursed through this teen’s body and with it the panic that continued to spiral out of control. Tears of frustration and rage seeped out unwillingly, and more droplets fell down to his shirt and the salt burned where it touched the right side of his face. Akira was bewildered, so in tuned into how his father was finally making good on every threat he had made, voiced or otherwise, that he couldn’t help the hysterical laughter that echoed throughout the entirety of the closet and back to his own eardrums. Sobs began to form from the noise, and a few more coarse screams left his throat as he curled into himself in whichever corner he was in.

“Let me out…just let me-e out….”Sharp, high-pitched whines began to accompany the waterfall of tears and hiccups that the ravenette found himself producing. Weakness immediately came to mind, yet even though he never considered himself afraid of enclosed spaces, the one Akira was in seemed to tighten and grow smaller with every sob. A faint memory was brought to the forefront of the young man’s mind when he realized his phone was still in his pocket.

Within a few seconds of turning on the screen, tapping away at the code needed to enter it, light soon helped to ease some of the terror running its course in Akira’s mind. The battery was still at a decent percentage, and with that knowledge the idea to call someone came to mind. But who?

Akira’s father was out of the question. He wouldn’t be in the mood for the teen’s hysterics and would probably hang up, or better yet, not even pick up the phone at all. Calling the house phone repeatedly to wake up Morgana was also a slim chance considering the loud pounding of the rain outside the exterior of the abode. That only left the police, who would think it was a prank in his small town and since it came from the ‘delinquent’s house’ even more of a reason not to show, and finally, one of his contacts in Tokyo.

Many people came to mind. Should he call one of his friends for their soothing voice? No, they would know something was especially up and then would want to find out what was wrong. The sooner he eliminated people the closer he found himself wanting to call Sojiro, whom he had a strong desire to call all along. It wasn’t like he wanted to bother the man, and in checking the time on his phone the teen found it to be quite early in the morning, but who else was there? Who else could he speak to that knew him well enough and would be able to calm him down? It only took a few seconds before the ravenette realized he was already dialing the number to his previous caregiver’s phone.

_Broop._

The single sound echoed louder than the rain or thunder had, and Akira was muttering somewhat loudly under his breath, hoping the café owner would pick up.

 _Broop_.

Again the phone rang, the tense atmosphere increasing, the teen tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, bringing his left sleeve up to his mouth and biting it in anticipation.

 _Broop_.

“…Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. _Pick up. Please, please pick up-_ “Suddenly, the line clicked, and words came from the other end.

“…Akira? Hello?” The relived sigh that escaped the thief’s mouth was higher pitched and filled with fear, something that immediately caught the older man’s attention.

“S-Sojiro? C-Can you…talk to me?” Akira hated how his words were barely holding together, slurring and cracking with every ounce of his panic, anxiety, and fear-filled hatred. Shuffling was heard on the other end of the line, and during the silence another boom of thunder rolled throughout the sky.

“What’s wrong?” Sojiro immediately asked, concern peaked and hanging from his words.

“I…I…c-can’t-“

“Shh. Calm down. Breathe, just _breathe_ , and then tell me what’s going on.” The ravenette did as instructed, trying hard to take a deep breath and hold it, shaking so badly he couldn’t keep from hiccupping some of it out, before exhaling and doing it again. He repeated this three more times, all the while the café owner waited patiently on the other end. Eventually, the young man was finally able to speak.

“My mother…she’s in the hospital. It’s nothing se-erious, she’ll be fine but…we got home and my father-“ more thunder pounded through the air, causing the teen to jump hard and wince as he hit his shoulder on the side of the wall, “-he locked me in a closet. I can’t get out. Morgana can’t h-hear me with all the r-rain and god, there didn’t used to be a lock on this door but now there is and I _can’t_ get out so...I don’t want to be alone, please, please talk to me? Please?”

“He did _what_?” The sentence broke through like shattering glass, emitting a powerful tone of perplexity and anger. More shuffling was heard before anything else was said. “I’m on my way, just hold on-“

“No! No, I can get out! I just need to w-wait until the storm is over, and Mona can hear me. He can get me out. He can lock pick the door if he needs to.” The stunned gape on the other end only lasted a second through the heavy pounding of rain on the other side of the wall.

“The cat can pick locks?” Akira nodded his head in tune with his reply.

“Yeah, he-e’s the one who taught me how.” Another sound—a mix between a huff and a ‘mhm’—sounded out and the shuffling of feet on the other end came to an abrupt halt.

“I’m still coming to get you-” Muttering came from the other end of the line, faint but still recognizable. “-Why in the hell would someone lock their kid in a closet!?”  Suddenly the image of Makoto tagging along popped into the thief’s head, and he knew if she showed up and confronted his father she would get hurt. Sojiro would get hurt. Time stopped moving as he spat out a reply into the phone as fast as he could.

“No! You shouldn’t—you need to run the café. And take care of Futaba. Besides, if she gets wind of where you’re going then the rest will find out and come along too. They don’t need to get distracted from school over me. Just please, _please_ talk to me! Talking is enough, _please_.” The whining and pleading must have paid off to the horror of Akira, who wished to whatever god there was that he wasn’t absolutely losing it right then and there, because Sojiro stopped in whatever motion he had been making and sighed, deep and heavy. The sound of metal popping open and the flick of a lighter could be heard through the phone call, the signal a cigarette was being lit, and the teen waited for the older man to begin talking once more.

“…Okay. Okay, I’ll talk to you. This doesn’t mean I won’t come by _very soon_ in order to check up on you.” For now, Sojiro was safe. Makoto was safe. His family was _safe_ , and as he breathed out another raggedy, shaken breath, the conversation continued, with a muffled mutter from the older man. “…probably knock your dad’s lights out while I’m at it. “

“Are you hurt?” The question was simple enough, and in his earlier panicked state the ravenette hadn’t thought about the repercussions of the slap. Subconsciously he knew his nose had started bleeding for a little while, and he ran the sleeve of his shirt over his cupid’s bow only to see in the dim light of the phone that he had in fact been bleeding.

“Yeah…my nose is bleeding. It’s not so bad, though.” The sniffle he ended up making was unconvincing, holding the sleeve under his nose to keep any future blood from dripping over the rest of his clothes. The guardian sighed and what sounded like a mumbled slur of curse words followed, but the man regained his control and continued on.

“He hasn’t done anything else, right? He hasn’t molested you or anything?”

“What!? God, n-no!” the slate-eyed teen practically shrieked into the phone. The very idea of such a thing was uncomfortable and taboo.

“Just making sure. Covering bases. Okay, aside from your nose you’re fine?”A quick double-check and with only the pain left on the right side of his face, he nodded into the air before remembering to speak.

“I think I’m okay.”

“Good.  God, this is not how I wanted my morning to go…Okay, topic. Anything specific you want to talk about, kid?” The teen thought it over for a moment, before shaking his head and wishing he could respond with just that.

“Not really…just, anything works. Keep me distracted.” A few minutes passed in silence before a reply was even formed, and once he heard it he was wondering exactly how he should respond.

“So, what was that world like?” Akira could hear the sound of the cigarette burning, his previous caregiver breathing a heavy sigh into the air. He could imagine the trail of smoke drifting upwards towards the ceiling. The question was sudden, in the way that the ravenette hadn’t thought the older man would ask about it. Not a lot of it made sense to him, but, in the thief’s tired and panicked state, he didn’t see a reason why he shouldn’t tell the man now.

“…the Metaverse? Mementos?” So unsure of himself, he made sure to enunciate the words correctly, slowly.

“Yeah. I know I said I wouldn’t ask, but, I’m curious; and you need something to talk about. So, tell me what it was like. It’s not around anymore, right?”

“…right.”

Akira thought about it for a moment, pondering exactly how he could explain _that world_ to the café owner. It wouldn’t be easy, and he wasn’t sure he could fully make sense out of it himself, but just the thought of Mementos seemed to…calm him, soothing his aching and rapidly beating heart. And so he began to speak.

“It’s like…the inside of a mirror. Everything’s the same, yet…different. There are people there, people who look exactly like us. Act the same as us…hell, they _are_ us. But, they all had yellow eyes…yellow like a banana? No…maybe more acidic. Like lemons. And they’re called Shadows. Some were more like misshaped creatures or demons, always coming after us to fight. Trying to kill us. But some were people, just like us, only…reversed. Opposite. The things we all repress or shy away from. That _power_ we all had? It came from our Shadows…we called them: Persona.”

Silence. Then, an airy breath was heard through the end of the phone.

“So these uh, ‘Shadow’s’…Did you ever come across mine?”The question came after another puff of the cigarette was heard, and it took a moment for the thief to reply.

“No…never.”

“Alright. Probably for the best, I don’t even wanna think about an ’opposite’ me. What about yours? You saw your own, right?”

“Yes. I saw my own Shadow.” The memory of that first day in Shibuya came to mind, watching on as time froze and his own reflection grinned wickedly in his direction, a calm flame illuminating the sky as the brazen image of Arsene stretched its wingspan in the haze.

“…And what were you trying to…repress?” Another minute passed, slow and calculating, as the teen tried to clear his head enough to answer coherently.

“ _Rage_. Every time I wanted to lash out, to speak up for myself…to feel unbridled _hatred_ and _loathing_. I was repressing my anger at the world, for what it had done to me, my family, everything.” Another minute fell in silence, only more thunder crying out in the dead of night. The young man heard the crunch of the cigarette and a small sizzle, before a sigh emitted from the other end of the phone.

“…God…So, what did it feel like? Letting that all out…that’s what this ‘Shadow’ helped you do, right?” Recalling the event was almost like reliving it all over again, and Akira had to bring his hand up from its position catching blood in order to trace where the mask once lay on his skin.

“…Pain. It was so painful…When we first went into that world, Ryuji and I were captured.  Kamoshida’s Shadow was going to kill Ryuji, and then I heard a voice--my Shadow’s voice--calling out to me. He was asking me if I was going to stand by and watch. If what I had done before was a mistake.”

“…So what did you say?”

“ **No.** I told him it wasn’t a mistake, that no part of saving that woman was some fluke, and then I felt the burning; like molten lava was singeing every part of me, and ice was smothering me from the outside. So cold, then white, _hot_ pain coursed through me and _god_ it hurt…but not nearly as bad as the mask.”

“Mask?” Again his hand traced the outline, all the while Akira’s eyes unfocused and drifted their gaze into the darkness before himself.

“Yeah…once that pain died down, all of a sudden I was wearing a mask; a white domino mask, with black rim around the eyes. I felt the mask on my skin; itching, irritating, and _burning_ me. I knew it needed to come _off_. So I ripped it off and it was the most _…excruciating_ pain; I’ve never felt anything like it in my whole life, not even now… It lasted for an eternity, then a second, and then it was gone and I heard chains rattling in the air, and cerulean fire spreading around me. It didn’t burn. In fact, it was actually cold…like ice water. And the chains were creeping out before me, behind me, everywhere. “

The teen paused, breathing deeply before continuing on.

“Then my school uniform was gone and I was wearing something else entirely different! There was an ink-black trench coat, and a grey, high-collar waistcoat beneath that. Charcoal pants and brown boots with heels on them. And then there were the gloves; blood red gloves on my hands. When I looked behind myself I saw him. My Shadow, my Persona…he was wearing an outfit similar to my own; Red, short cut coat, hands that looked more like claws…black tipped and razor sharp. And then his mask looked like someone who’s on the brink of insanity, pure rage etched into the material within flames. And the chains I had around me went up to him. Restricting and binding me to him. I stopped feeling afraid, stopped standing on the sidelines waiting for nothing to happen. I felt all of that rage bottled up inside of me. I felt all of that hate and I let it loose, destroying everything in my way.”  


A few minutes passed, silence stretching in the night as the older man let the raw emotion in the words sink in.

“I see... And your Shadow did all of this? Gave you that power?”A hum of thought sounded out, and mixed with the sounds of the rain seemingly growing fainter in the background.

“Yes. We called what I specialized in ‘Eiha’, but it was like… darkness, a curse. Dark magic, if you will.”

“Dark magic? You specialized in _that_? Sounds like you, kid. In a weird, far-fetched way, I suppose.” The small shock in Sojiro’s voice was genuine, and made the teen forget about his situation just a little more.

“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” A small laugh echoed from the other end of the line, and the thief could practically smell the coffee and spices he had grown accustomed to in Yongen.

“Crazy doesn’t cover it, but…why _that_? Why ‘dark magic’? Sounds like they’re making you out to be a wizard or something.” The chuckle unwillingly left the teen’s throat, and he sighed into the air before allowing the words on his mind to escape out of his mouth.

“Everybody thought I was a criminal; a villain…so I _embraced it_. Became what they made me out to be.”

 “Akira…”The concern and sadness in the sigh only served to bring forth emotions long buried, and in remembering how awful those first few chaotic days had been in Tokyo the ravenette allowed some of his pent-up anger out.

“I had control. It finally, _finally_ felt like _I_ was in control. Nobody was calling the shots except for me. And why should they? Everyone was treating me like a monster, some delinquent kid who only caused trouble. Cognition works in many ways…I guess that power made sense, in the end of things.”

For a few minutes, both ends of the call were silent. Akira simply listened to the sounds of the storm outside, waiting for the sudden mood he was in to pass. The teen soon heard Sojiro’s lengthy sigh, and what he assumed was the cigarette being put out.

“We were all so horrible to you, weren’t we?” The ravenette’s sharp inhale and widened eyes cut through the rain, and shuffling on the other end of the line echoed for a time as the café owner continued on. “I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it when I say I’m sorry for how I acted when you first came to Tokyo.”

Slight panic erupted in the ravenette’s heart, and his mind was soon spitting words out of his mouth of reassure his father-figure there had been no harm.

“Sojiro, don’t be! It’s in the past. Besides, I always knew under that rough exterior you were a giant teddy bear.” The laughter filled the open air, and only after it ended was the thief shocked by the older man once more.

“…what was his name, anyway?” It took a second to realize exactly what the older man was talking about.

“You mean my Persona?”

“What else have we been yapping about? You speak about it like they were special to you. And I know I’ve heard you kids mention names every now and again that I thought sounded familiar.” Akira held back for a moment, cementing himself in the feeling of the name on his soul, before he allowed it to comfortably roll off of his tongue.

“Arsene. “ Warmth seemed to spread through the thief’s chilled bones like wildfire, a relaxing and calming wave washing over his form, and with the sensation he smiled. It was like a sign gently reminding the ravenette that his other half was still there.  “His name was Arsene.”

A strange noise emitted from the other end, something akin to a surprised gasp and a huff.

“You mean like the book? “

“Yes. Exactly like the book.” A satisfied laugh leapt from Akira’s mouth, just as he imagined the café owner shaking his head back and forth in astonishment.

“Of course. He certainly fits your style.”

“He was also just as much of an ass as he was in the books. But he was also wise, and a great listener.” Again that feeling of warmth strode through the teen, and he basked in the presence of the master thief before a tug of tiredness struck the ravenette. He let out a soft sigh that disappeared into the cold air.

“You must miss him, huh…” As always, Sojiro hit the nail on the head, though the younger man was more wary of it this time. It only reminded him of what he couldn’t fully have anymore.

“Yeah…” Sensing the darkening tone, the caregiver simply cleared his throat and kept the conversation rolling.

“So, uh, calming down some? You sound a lot more relaxed than before.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks. Just didn’t expect for this to go into the rabbit hole, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either, but if it gets you to keep your mind off of other matters then I don’t mind. Especially hearing you talk more, more than I think I’ve ever heard you talk the entire year you were here.” Another laugh sounded out between the two, and Akira settled back against the wall comfortably, ignoring the sound of the rain and thunder still echoing outside the room.

“I’d rather listen than talk. And since you’re here, you could always tell me a story.” A huff of amusement left the older man’s lips.

“What are you, five?” Akira simply smirked.

“You tell me.” A huff resounded but the teen could hear the smile within it.

“Fine, fine. Now let’s see…a story. I don’t think I have many you’d like.”

“Anything is fine…” Silence came around once more as Sojiro thought. Akira waited patiently, though his mind was scurrying about from one thought to another. He hadn’t ever really heard an in-depth story from Sojiro before. And it wasn’t entirely like the café owner to do so, but the teen supposed he was doing this more as a service to--and out of worry for--the younger man. Futaba had probably seen a lot more of this side of the caregiver than Akira had. It dawned on the ravenette that Sojiro had mentioned knowing Futaba’s mother long before the redhead was born, so that meant…

“Sojiro… can you tell me about when Futaba was born? You were there, right?” A long pause emitted from the other end as the older man stopped whatever he was doing, only to breathe quietly into the phone. It was a full minute before he responded, and with it came a more melancholy tone of voice that was very rare for the guardian to have.

“I remember getting a call that afternoon about Wakaba going into labor. It was one of my days off, but knowing Wakaba, she was so engrossed in her research that she never really took time off. And it was just like her to wait until the last minute to go to the hospital. She had just started delivering the tiny kid when I had finally arrived. God, she was so small! I kept thinking to myself ‘If I were to hold her, I’d crush her’. I nearly thought Wakaba was crazy offering her own precious daughter up to me so easily, like handing over a delicate gift. But she just smiled and egged me on, and finally I just gave in and took that little redhead into my arms.” The older man paused, taking what sounded like a huff of another cigarette, and Akira could only vaguely try and remember when it had been lit. He was so focused on the story that he hadn’t realized the sound of the rain outside of the house had been growing more gentle.

“I’m guessing she adored you right away?” the ravenette pondered aloud, a shy but comfortable smile covering his face as he spoke. A resounding laugh came in reply.

“Ha, no. Almost instantly, Futaba started screaming. At first I thought she just didn’t like me, or didn’t like someone else holding her aside from her mother, but after a minute or two she calmed down. Fussy to sleeping in my arms within seconds! I was so stunned by her attitude change I tried my best not to move for the next hour, making sure she stayed asleep. And the whole time, Wakaba was smiling and laughing, talking about the clothes she picked out for her ‘darling little girl’, something she had never been so passionate about before. She was even making plans over the next week, in depth details of everything she was going to do to try to be the best mother Futaba could have. It was probably the most expressive I’d ever seen her. We sat there, marveling in that little girl for hours. And in some small way, I knew I would always be there for Futaba when she needed me to be. I knew I’d always be _her dad_ , even if I wasn’t her real father. Like instinct, you’d probably say. It’s those little things that happen to you in life that make it all the more worthwhile. “

Akira could only remind himself to breathe. Listening to the older man speak about Futaba and her mother like they were the most precious things in the world to him…remembering exactly how protective he was when the teen first tried getting information about her before they entered the mauve eyed girl’s palace the first time, it made sense in the terms that Sojiro was basically considered her father. And all of that history they had together…

The slated eyed teen let his mind wander for a minute, before something slipped out of the fuzz before he could trap it behind the walls of his mind.

“Why do you think Wakaba had a child? She never said who the real father was, or even made it a big deal she was having Futaba. ….Why is that?”

A few seconds passed in silence, and with every tick of passing time Akira’s heartbeat grew faster. What if he had said something to offend Sojiro? Or disrespect Wakaba? Almost as soon as he managed to get his lips to form an apology to drop the matter, Sojiro finally chimed in with a laugh from the other end of the phone.

“Hm. Well, I suppose she just wanted to be a mother and didn’t want to wait. She wanted to leave something more special and important to her than her research behind. Maybe she saw the road that was ahead of her, or maybe it was that crazy intuition she had…but I know for a fact she loved being Futaba’s mother. In her eyes, that little girl was the greatest thing that ever happened to Wakaba.”

Akira nodded his head in the dark closet, clutching the phone close to his ear and accepting the answer wholeheartedly. It was strange, he felt so happy knowing Futaba was brought into this world and surrounded by love and joy. But the teen also felt sad in remembering how he was brought into it; feeling like a mistake that should never have happened, existing without a purpose in his father’s eyes, and starved of any real affection a parent should give their child. Hell, it was because of his own flesh and blood he was sitting curled into the icy corner of the closet, listening to the beating of the rain on the other side of the wall next to him. The ravenette couldn’t help the tears silently falling down his face once more.

“…Akira? You still there?” The sudden reminder that the call was still ongoing served to make the young man jump, gasping into the air before rushing a reply off of his salty tongue.

“Y-Yeah, yeah I’m here. Just enjoying the story.” The thief was frantically wiping away tears with the bloodstained sleeve of his arm, trying his best to sound calm and relaxed but it wasn’t without its hiccups of betrayal.

“Kid, come on. You can tell me whatever’s on your mind. Always can.” The smile he could feel from the invitation graced his lips as he laughed through his tears, the hysteria returning for an encore as he stuttered out the words plaguing his heart and mind, not bothering trying to hide them from the man on the other end of the line.

“I’m just…so h-happy for Futaba. But then I s-start thinking about how I was brought into this world, and it’s so much _different_. I was just-t some mistake for my parents. My mother is the only one who cares, but she’s never really ‘ _there’_. My father never cared! I’m just some toy for him to play with. Futaba’s s-so lucky to have _you_ , Sojiro!” The sobbing returned in full force, and even as Akira clamped his free hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, spikes from winces penetrated through, and left the pain and misery clear in their wake. It wasn’t long before a reply came through that caused more tears to fall down the teen’s face.

“You have me too, Akira. You’ve always had me too. I meant it when I said you were both _my_ kids. I don’t like overstepping my bounds, especially when it comes to parenting, but you never talked about home so I kept my involvement minimal. Just what was needed here and there. I could see how much you wanted someone around who would be there for you like a _parent_. And I still am; I’m not going anywhere Akira.”

It took a full ten minutes for the ashen-eyed teen to calm down from the emotions racking his body. He shivered and sobbed and cried in that closet, listening to the sounds of the thunder lessening and the rain gently tapping the roof, as well as Sojiro’s dedication to helping calm the ravenette down from his emotional state with murmurs here and there to “ _Let it out_ ”  and “ _It’s okay, I’m right here_ ”.

Once every sniffle had been excised and tear wiped away from his sore eyelids, did the conversation continue.

“ _Thank you._ Thank you.” A hum of approval came from the café owner’s end.

“Always, kid. You’re welcome. It’s getting to be pretty early in the morning; I can almost see the sun coming up. Are you sure you don’t want me to drop everything and-“

“I’m sure. Morgana should be awake soon. I’ll be fine…Is…is it okay to…call you ‘Dad’?” the nervous banter was more than welcome, as Sojiro huffed a hearty but smug laugh before replying.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do it since Futaba used it the first time. Of course it’s okay.” A smile, and a burden off of the young man’s heart.

“I’ll be fine, _dad._ ” A satisfied sigh resounded through the quiet of the closet.

“Okay then. Call me once you get out of there. I’ll be driving up there very soon to check up on you, remember that.” The small ping of fear was overshadowed by the happiness tugging at the strings of Akira’s heart. He almost missed the quiet murmurs that snuck through at the end. “And if I get lucky…”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. Get some rest, well, and much as you can get in that closet. Call me if anything happens and I’ll be right there. Promise.” The tired feeling the child had once had grew tenfold when he realize exactly how much time had passed in their talking.

“Alright. Good n—Morning, dad.”

“Good morning, son.” Once the line disconnected, Akira basked in the warmth in his heart.

 _Son_. _He called me his **son**_ **.**

The gloom faded away as the ravenette fell into the throws of sleep, curled into himself in the closet, repeating the words over again in his mind as the most precious gift he ever received.


	5. Teardrop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy October. Time for the horror party.
> 
> Rick click to loop. 
> 
> Instramental: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DP_FPgb1eiU
> 
> Lyric song, different: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3h-JYx76QNM

The fuzzy cloud of white noise Akira awoke to was thick, and he found it hard to pull himself out of his heavy slumber in the uncomfortable closet. Exhaustion was etched into every fiber of muscle and tissue within the teen’s body, and the strange calming noise he found himself hearing made itself out to be the gentle rain puttering outside of the house. The ravenette shifted in his curled state, remembering he was still inside the small closet, sighing into the cold of the room. One deep breath of the icy air helped to shake off most of the drowsy feel lingering on his mind before he found the ability to stand.

Sleeping in the closet had not been part of the thief’s plan, the kinks in his muscles and the sore, raw feeling he felt on his right cheek were enough to elicit a low groan. What time was it? Was it even still morning? Akira checked the time on his wristwatch.  It was eight thirty seven in the morning. A decent time, but it wasn’t much comfort considering how little sleep the ashen-eyed teen had gotten. A few mere hours, and the ravenette felt just as bad, if not worse, than he did beforehand. Every part of him was screaming for the return to rest, to sit down again and try to sleep once more, but there were more pressing matters he had to attend to.

He shifted his attention to glance at the door, noticing a few stray rays of dull morning light seeping in through the cracks. It was past the time his father went to work in the morning, so it was about time Akira made some noise and got out of the room. The teen stood center to the door, listening to the floorboards creak underneath him, listening to the hallway beyond the door for any sign of life. Any noises that would indicate his feline friend was near. Nothing but the sound of the rain replied. The thief placed the palms of his hands on both sides of the door, taking in a deep breath before screaming out the cat’s name.

“Morgana!” If he was still asleep by now, this would wake him up.  “Morgana!” The raw feel within the ravenette’s throat returned from a dull state to a more sharp pain as it had been the night before. He waited a moment, pressing his ear up to the door to hear the sounds he was waiting for. Within a few moments the faint pitter-patter of paws made their way to Akira, and he smiled a little as they grew closer.

“Akira? Are you home?” the muffled words spoke through in the air, but not close enough to the closet as they could have been. Again the teen drew in a deep breath, a light flutter of nervousness spreading through his veins as he yelled out again.

“Morgana, the closet. I’m stuck in here.” The paw patter returned, this time a little faster as the feline closed the distance to the door. A confused meow sounded out just outside the room, and Akira tried his best to keep from shaking. When it had started he didn’t know, but the adrenaline that had begun to course through his veins worried him slightly. He shouldn’t be this nervous, yet here he was.

“Akira? How the heck did you get stuck in there?” The cat moved to reach upwards on the door, near the door handle where he would better get a grasp on the situation.

“Trying to be diplomatic.” A huff and annoyed growl came from the other end of the door, and the metal knob wiggled in its allowance as Morgana began fiddling with it. “It’s locked. Do you need to pick it or is there a button in the middle you can use to get me out?”

“There’s a button here. Let me just-“the metallic click of the knob sounded out, and the feline could be heard dropping back onto all fours before backing away. “There.”

Akira wasted no time in opening the door, relief and worry crashing together in his system as he sighed and hurriedly left the closet, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, eyeing his companion and nodding his head in thanks before leaning it back against the wood, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. Morgana waited a moment before walking forward from his tall stance, rubbing his side up against the ravenette’s right leg before speaking.

“Hey, are you alright?” The tone in his voice was that all too familiar concern mixed with persistence that the thief had gotten used to hearing in Tokyo. Akira opened his eyes and forced a small smile down at his friend, noticing how the world had begun to spin in his vision.

“I will be. Thanks.” Those royal blue eyes gave a sharp glance in the teen’s direction, and closed for a second too long in welcoming before the black and white mass continued on.

“Why were you in there, Akira?” Slate eyes met azure, and the lingering dizziness was shaken off, trying to find a way to avoid the subject.

“Something fell. I put it back.” The cobalt eyes narrowed slightly, and the questioning gaze continued to stare as the ravenette looked away and murmured quietly. “Locked myself in by accident.”

“That’s not what that bruise on your face is telling me. Or the blood on your shirt.” Akira internally groaned, grimacing as he pulled his tired limbs behind himself and pushed off the door, glancing down to the few drops of blood that stained the white of his dress shirt, and he fiddled with his wristwatch behind his back as he replied.

“Just drop it, Morgana.”

“No. You can’t stand there and lie to me about this! There’s no way you locked yourself in that closet, hell, with that kind of lock it’s impossible! You should know that.” The feline was right, but the closer he got to the truth the more the teen fought against his companion. And Akira was already so _tired_ …now was not the time. He needed to rest, and needed to think properly about his situation. This was only the beginning, and the ravenette knew it. But he couldn’t allow Morgana to know the truth. He just couldn’t.

“Mona-“the cat moved to stand in front of him, and his ears twitched and flicked back in warning before he cut off his leader.

“You’ve never lied to me before. Don’t you dare start now.” Akira was taken aback, mouth dropping open just slightly and eyes widening at his friends words. The cat softened his piercing gaze for a moment before hardening himself again, trying to retain his composure. “What happened to you? It was your dad, wasn’t it?”

The ravenette looked away, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves, feeling the rough stains from the blood crack on the fabric. Morgana was smart, and despite his annoying persistence for answers Akira knew he cared and only wanted to help. But what could he help to do? This wasn’t the metaverse. There were no Shadows to fight or Persona to summon. There was only his father, dark eyes starring him down from across the room and filled with disappointment and hatred. He was naturally violent and could easily hurt Morgana when given the chance. And the teen knew his friend would fight for him. But that would only cause them both more suffering.

And they had had _plenty_ of suffering.

“Yes.” There was no way of denying it, Akira knew, so he managed to quietly whisper his reply while walking away from the closet, towards the bathroom down the hall. His right cheek was burning again and he could faintly feel the presence of dried blood around the corners of his nose. As he walked the feline followed behind, quick in his movements in order to keep up. The teen opened the door to the dark room and turned on the light, making his way to the mirror.

“But why? Why would he do that to you? You’re his son after all.” Akira couldn’t help the light chuckle he let out into the air, looking at himself in the mirror and reminiscing on the event from the night before. His nose was fine aside from the pink outlines around his nostrils, darkening on his cupid’s bow and continuing down his chin. The right side of his face was maroon, and as he reached his hand up and touched the bruise he felt exactly how tender his skin was. Even the smallest amount of pressure hurt. He glanced down at his dress shirt, ruined with various spots of blood and smears on the cuffs. He reached to shed the garment as he replied.

“He certainly doesn’t think I am.” The teen tossed the shirt to the floor, feeling his muscles strain from movement in their exhausted state, and the thin ebony nightshirt he wore underneath invited the cold of the room in. Shivering, the thief grabbed a washcloth and began to wash the blood off his face gingerly, being careful not to disturb the bruise too much. Morgana stood quietly behind him as he worked, and soon enough his face and hands were clean and the ravenette felt ten times more exhausted than he had been before. The dark circles underneath his eyelids were more apparent, as well as the redness from the night before. It was then that he remembered he had yet to call Sojiro as he promised.

A small sigh resounded into the room as Akira turned and left it, a dull headache beating at the back of his skull as he managed to stagger his way to his room and flop down on the bed, pulling out his phone and starring at it in thought. He could call Sojiro now, but it was just to let the guardian know he was out of that room, safe. In the increasing tiredness he thought about simply waiting until after he got more rest, but who knew how long he was going to sleep for and he did promise to call Sojiro as soon as he got out of the closet. It wouldn’t bode well for him to wait, afraid of worrying his father figure further. That only left him with text, leaving a short and simple message would do the trick. This way he could just call the café owner later without worry. The weary teen typed a quick message and sent it just as Morgana jumped onto the bed, making his way towards Akira’s head before settling himself next to his shoulder, head reaching out and lightly set upon his leader’s flesh before he spoke.

“Get some rest. We’ll talk later.” Akira nodded as best he could, already falling into the throws of sleep as his phone slipped from his hand and he closed his eyes, relishing the warmth from his friend beside him.

The peaceful grasp of rest did not last, however. It wasn’t long before the ravenette was in-between the muddy fog of sleep and awake. His mind wandered from one small matter to another, mostly unimportant and trivial things. He didn’t know how long he had laid in his bed, tossing and turning restlessly before a thought occurred that made him snap upwards in his bed in a cold sweat, mind racing around the possibilities.

Why _was_ there a lock on that closet door in the first place? It hadn’t existed before Akira’s year in Tokyo.  Besides, there was no real need for the closet to have a lock on it unless there was something inside of it that required such things. And the lock on the door…it was a standard privacy lock. It was more meant for a bedroom door than it was a closet, and the button to lock it was from the outside of the door. Not the inside. This meant that whatever purpose the lock served was not to keep people out of the closet…

It was meant to keep people _in_.

Akira had long started shaking, adrenaline pounding through his veins as he processed the information and the only logical conclusions to such things. How long had his father been planning this? Were there more things that had changed while the teen was away in Tokyo? Maybe there were far more reasons why his father was acting as he was. Perhaps they had even worsened while the thief had been gone. What kind of thoughts and feelings had been stewing, fermenting slowly during the year he was away? It dawned on him that his father had left for work without ever checking on Akira. He had planned to leave his own son in a closet for an entire day, maybe even more, over some petty argument? Morgana’s form crept into the horrified teen’s vision, and as he turned his head just enough to see the concern in his friend’s azure eyes.

“Akira? Hey…are you alright?” The ravenette couldn’t move. He wouldn’t dare respond. His heartbeat was racing faster than he had ever felt it before, shock burst through every emotion he had so far in the few minutes he had explored these deep set thoughts. His breathing was erratic, a half-pant, half-gasp mixture that squeezed and choked him from the inside out, burning his trachea and causing him to lean forward into his knees and grasp at his throat, closing his eyes which were wet from the overload of sensations. _Breathe, Breathe._ Akira repeated to himself, drowning out the loud meows that garbled themselves into nothing but noise that the thief could not decipher. Everything was moving too fast. Too slow. Then not moving at all. A whirlwind of dizziness consumed his sense of surrounding, and was it just in his head or was his heartbeat booming louder in his ears with every breath? Panicking, he opened his eyes to find something else to focus on and in return he saw just how much of his vision was blurring red at the corners, what was black was now white and muddled together as the tears sprang forth from within. The noise in his head died down to one word that raced through his mind; _run._

He only realized he was sprinting out of his room and bolting down the stairs faster than he could process when he put his hands on the doorknob of the front door and struggled to throw it open, relishing the cold air that hit his skin and made his way to the middle of the asphalt in the road, standing there in panic and confusion. The rain had died down to a gentle sprinkle, and the sound of everything from birds hiding in the trees to the leaves rustling in the wind helped to drown out the pounding of his heartbeat. Akira breathed in deeply, relishing the sting of the cold in his lungs and allowed himself to grasp onto the feeling, repeating the motion over and over until everything returned to normal. No more red in his vision. No more gasping desperately for air. He breathed in everything that was calm, everything that wasn’t his father. It took a few more seconds to realize a warm, fuzzy mass was standing right beside him. Looking down to his right he met ash with cobalt once more. Furrowed brows and twitching whiskers leaned towards his leg, and he couldn’t help crouching down to pet the familiar and scratch around his ears, something Morgana enjoyed immensely but refused to admit. A steady purr seeped into the air, and a few more moments passed before the feline spoke.

“Akira…”

“Unlike me, isn’t it?”He hadn’t ever panicked so badly before, at least, not outside of that other world. And it was such a strange feeling, weighing on his heart, so he continued to pet his companion for the comfort of it.

“You could say that. Did…did you just have a panic attack?”The petting motions stopped, and the teen kept his eyes on the tree line beyond the row of houses that marked the edge of the town. The ravenette didn’t have to answer. They already both knew what it was. The fact that it had happened settled a cloud of unease in Akira’s stomach, and he ground his teeth together in disgust. He glanced back at the open door of his home; a strong sense of caution emanating from the scene only pressed him into standing and starring at the doorway.

“Are you ready to go back in? It’s too chilly out here for you to be without a coat or something.” Akira didn’t want to go back inside. The entire house screamed danger to him, but Morgana was right. It was far too cold for him to simply stand in the driveway all day and do nothing. Besides, he had left his phone on his bed, and he still wanted to call Sojiro at some point. The ravenette shook his head but began to walk forward anyway. He wouldn’t stay cooped up in the house all day, waiting for his father to return and whatever outcome that would bring.

“Stay here. I’m going to grab a few things, then we’re going to visit Mama…”Akira mumbled quietly, never glancing back to check his companion’s reaction. The walk there wasn’t too awfully far. It would be a good way to clear his head further, despite his weary condition. He would be in and out of that house in minutes, and soon, in the presence of someone who _truly_ cared for him.

Hurriedly Akira grabbed his ink colored coat, throwing it on and covering his head in the hood before retrieving his phone from his room and his set of house keys, before grabbing his canvas bag he used to carry Morgana around in and locking the door shut. He almost thanked the course of events for allowing him to already be mostly dressed for his walk, but he mainly felt spite in his situation. All of this shouldn’t be happening. His father, the anxiety and panic, all of it just drove his stress levels up to an all new high.

The only good thing about his day was he had no school. God forbid he would have been locked in that closet and missed it. The rumors that were already spread about him were enough of a headache. He didn’t want any more popping up and making things worse than they already were. A small part of Akira wished his friends were here, Makoto in particular. He wanted to grasp her hand in his, tracing the outline of where her delicate fingers met his own. He wanted to look into her ruby eyes and know everything was going to be alright.

It wasn’t long before he finally arrived at the hospital, a little numb from the cold but he didn’t mind. It kept his thoughts off other matters. Morgana stayed quiet the whole time, popping his head out every now and again to check on the progress, occasionally to give Akira a worried look, and to mewl every now and again when a drop of rain fell on his ear. The teen welcomed it, anything to distract him from the torrent of emotions inside his head.

The ravenette stood outside the doors of the hospital, gazing inside to the bright lit halls and the lack of rain that he hadn’t noticed was soaking him through and through. He considered leaving, knowing how he looked and how his mother would worry. But another part of him strongly pressed him onwards to enter. He wanted to see her. He wanted to feel something that wasn’t the numbing sensation of the rain. And so he stepped forward, the sliding doors opening without a sound as he made his way inside the building.

The hallways were long and narrow, pristine white that was almost nauseating to look at stared back at him, and the occasional nurse that passed by seemed faceless as he navigated the building. Akira already knew which room he needed to go to. He allowed his feet to take him there, on a steady and slow autopilot of sorts. Every now and again he could feel eyes focusing on his form, but never did he attempt to return it. He was a soaking mess, and with that bruise on his face marking his porcelain skin with internalized pain and the apathetic way he felt _should_ be unnerving. When the teen finally made it through the corridors to the room his mother was in, he had to force a deep breath before entering.

Machine’s beeped here and there, and the room was just as pure white as the rest of the hospital had been. A beige curtain was pulled to conceal the hospital bed at the left of the room, and all Akira could make from it was her silhouette sitting upwards with a few pillows propped underneath her. A steady heartbeat from a monitor helped to steady his nerves a bit, as he walked up to the curtain and pulled it back enough to meet her smiling face. She looked tired, almost more tired than he felt, and her hair was in a wavy mess around her neck and down her shoulders. Still she smiled, and it reached her eyes, as he returned a small one of his own before sitting down in the closest chair and setting Morgana’s bag on the floor, his head already popping out with a purr.

“Hello, Mama. How are you feeling today?” He asked, leaning forwards to rest his arms criss-cross on the edge of her bed.

“Much better. I’m not coughing as bad as before! You know me, Aki; stubborn as usual.” She smiled to him, and he felt her warmth reach through the air to grasp at his heart. “You’re soaking wet! Did you walk here without an umbrella?”

“Forgot it.” He smiled, and noticed Morgana sneaking up on the bed and curling himself into his mother’s side. She let out a bemused laugh before beginning to stroke his fur lovingly.

“Too busy sneaking Morgana in here?” Her eyes hid a playful light, and he returned a smirk as he always did when she was in one of her better moods.

“Something like that.”

A few moments later she waned in her mood, tilting her head to the side before reaching a hand out to his face. The teen seized up when she turned his head with a few gentle fingers to his chin, revealing the bruise that was still darkening and gnawing sparks of pain in his flesh. He grimaced as she sighed, her smile gone now and replaced with concern.

“Mama-“

“He did this, didn’t he?” Akira knew lying to her would be pointless. He simply cast his gaze to the floor and sighed, nodding his head once in reply. Another moment passed before her hands fell onto her son’s own, and squeezed them gently. When he raised his head back to meet hers, the smile returned in earnest.

“I should have been there. I could have stopped this.”His eyes widened, but then narrowed in distress.

“Mama, don’t.” His words were dangerous, a warning. Now was not the time.  She sharpened her gaze but kept her gentle grip upon his hands.

“I’d rather it be me than you, Akira. You’re _my_ son. Nobody is allowed to hurt you while I’m still here. Not even your father.” She dropped in her mood, and he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his throat.

“I can take care of myself, Mama.”He pulled away slightly, but never once looking away from his mother’s gaze.

“I know you can. But I’m allowed to worry, aren’t I?”She leaned back into the pillows, Morgana swapping glances between the two but staying quiet. “You look exhausted. Did you get any sleep? We should have a nurse look at your face at the very least.”

“No, I’m fine. Nothing a cup of good coffee can’t fix.” She chuckled into the air, recovering her warm atmosphere before lighting the playful glint in her eye.

“And an ice pack, pumpkin. Mm. Coffee sounds good right about now. I miss having you make it for me already. The wonder’s Tokyo taught you still amaze me.”

“You can thank Sakura-san for that. And you’re not supposed to be having coffee with your medication. Doctor’s orders.” Akira straightened up in the chair, glad that the mood was returning to what he needed.

“If I beg enough you’ll break the rules to make it for me anyway. You do it all the time at home.”His mother started scratching behind Morgana’s ears, causing him to mewl out unexpectedly. The teen gave a small chuckle at it.

“Not in the hospital. They’ve got secret cameras that rat out the unsuspecting children making great coffee for their mother’s. Oh, and one more thing, they don’t have the equipment I need.” She giggled a fair bit, before coughing a few times and causing Akira to wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay! Too bad they don’t have those coffee beans you brought back from Tokyo. It’s such a good blend. You’ll need to take me there sometime.”Her eyes met his own dead on, and the thief had to force himself to swallow down a gasp before replying.

“Take you? Are you sure you’re even allowed to go that far?” The matriarch hummed quietly for a moment, closing her eyes but continuing her motions, circling the fuzzy companion’s ears in her thoughts.

“It would be nice to meet this Sakura-san you talk so highly about. And see what you saw in Tokyo, where you stayed, meet everyone close to you again.” Akira froze, taking everything in before his mother started to laugh out loud, bringing her hand up to her face as it grew more of a pinkish color.

“Oh, Aki, the look on your face! Like you can’t believe what I’m saying.  You’re so adorable when you worry.” The ravenette’s face turned a darker color, flush with embarrassment as he frowned and fiddled with his wristwatch under his coat. The idea wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t _crazy_. Then again, who was he to complain about it?

“Someone has to.” He muttered under his breath. His mother calmed in her laughter and settled back into the bed comfortably. They sat there for a few moments before the teen yawned slightly, closing his eyes as the exhaustion kicked in from earlier. He felt utterly worn out, and every ache he had in his muscles was becoming more prevalent as the cold left his bones in the warmth of the room. He leaned forward once more and crossed his arms on the bed, setting his head upon them and sighing. Akira wanted to sleep, but, one thing kept bothering him. Keeping him awake and relentlessly pestering his thoughts until he finally looked up at his mother and spoke the words he had been trying to ignore for a while.

“Mama…when, when _this_ ”—he tilted his head to the right, glancing down towards the bed sheets and refusing to make eye contact as he continued—“happened, there was a photo album that fell on the floor in the hallway closet. I opened it…I saw the both of you, happy. What happened? What changed?” Akira looked upwards, meeting his mother’s solemn gaze. “…Was it me? Did I make you both unhappy?”

“Akira, no, that’s not it at all.” Again he found his hands within his mothers, a firm squeeze keeping them there and pulling him further towards the bed as she brought them to her lips to leave a gentle, motherly kiss upon his fingers. She smiled brightly and looked into his ashen eyes before continuing.

“You made us so happy, Akira. I remember the day we found out we we’re having you, and your father was ecstatic! He was nervous, so nervous but still he went around telling everyone he knew how he was going to be a father. You always made us happy. You still make me happy. Your father…changed, is all. He just couldn’t keep up with us.”She reached her hand out, one finger pointed out and before Akira could even realize it, she was wiping away the tears that had begun to slide down his face. He never even knew he was crying. Pulling away, he crossed his arms once more before hiding his face in them, feeling her fingers run through his hair as he tried to calm himself down. He could taste the salt in his mouth, stinging when the trail fell down to the bruise and he winced, his mother quietly whispering comforts into the air that he couldn’t quite make out.

“It’s not fair.” He managed to force out of his sore throat.

“I know, pumpkin, I know.” In his weary state, it only took a few minutes before the darkness of a dreamless sleep befell him.

When Akira awoke it was nearly sunset, the warm rays of evening light flitting in through the window. He was groggy and still felt tired but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before. The aches and pains had dulled down a bit, but his shoulder blades hurt, and when he began to move his head where it had been propped in his arms he realized why. He spotted Morgana napping next to him, and when he groaned aloud and began to stretch, reaching his arms out and feeling the popping of vertebrae in his back; he glanced up and spotted his mother smiling at him. He smiled back, feeling a slight twinge of pain in his cheek in doing so and when he reached up to touch it he noticed a bandage in its place.

“Oh, don’t take that off sweetie. I had a nurse check you over while you were asleep, and she put a little aloe on the bruise to help with the pain.” Akira hummed in tired approval, and proceeded to rub the sleep from his eyes before checking the time on his wristwatch.  It was after six in the afternoon. He had arrived at the hospital around eleven am, so that meant…

“I slept for six hours?” He asked to nobody in particular. The teen’s mother nodded her head in reply, and the thief sighed before allowing his head to fall back down on the bed. He felt her fingers running over his hair and behind his ear, which helped to relax him once more.

“I really don’t want to go home, Mama…” he nearly whispered.

“Visiting hours aren’t over yet.” She reminded him, but he just smiled and sat upright once more.

“I have school tomorrow. Besides, I can’t put this off forever.” Her worried expression pierced through his heart, but he knew what had to be done.

“You should rest a while longer before you walk all the way home.”

“I’ve rested enough. I’ll just get some of the coffee before I leave. Not great, but it’ll help keep me awake on the way back. “He gently set about to waking Morgana before getting his bag ready for the feline. The fuzzy fluff ball shook out his fur and stretched before licking at the matriarch’s fingertips, cobalt gaze thanking her silently.

“Feel better soon, ma’am.” Morgana meowed, before turning to Akira. “Are we leaving, Akira?”

The ravenette nodded his head, and Morgana hopped into the bag just as the teen stood from the chair, gaze lingering on his mother before he spoke.

“I’ll come by after school tomorrow. Love you, mama.” She nodded her head, and brought her hand to rest over her heart before replying.

“Okay. Love you too, Aki. I’m proud of you.”The thief stopped in his movements, staring back at his mother’s wide smile. He simply grinned back for a moment, leaning forward to kiss her forehead before turning around and making his way out of the room. His mother’s words echoed through his mind and settled comfortably into his heart as he wandered around looking for a coffee machine inside the building. Eventually he found one, buying some cheap iced coffee which was more tasteless than bitter, scarfing it down as he left the building. He almost regretted the drink, but it would keep him awake for the walk home, so it wasn’t such a bad trade off. It still didn’t compare to his own, or Sojiro’s.

“Ah.” Akira stopped mid-walk on the sidewalk, the cold night air chilling his bones as he remembered the phone call he was supposed to make. Mona popped his head out of the satchel due to the movements before the ravenette was grasping at his phone, dialing the number within seconds as he continued on his way. It was only a moment or two before Sojiro picked up.

“Akira, how are you doing?” The sound of water boiling in a kettle on the other end made him smile.

“Better, Dad.” Morgana mewled in surprise, starring up at Akira with wide eyes.

“Akira, is that your father on the phone!?”

“No, Mona, its Sojiro.”The teen had to pull the phone away and cover it, not wanting to confuse the café owner with the explanations.

“Wait, really?” The cat seemed to smirk, grinning mischievously as best as he could do in his feline form before the teen gave him a questioning glance. “ _Finally_! It took you long enough.”

“What does that mean?” the thief glared down upon his companion, who simply purred in delight.

“Futaba and I had a bet you were going to say that eventually.” Faintly, Sojiro could be heard on the other end repeating Akira’s name. He stopped walking and sighed.

“Hold on, bad connection.” Turning back towards Morgana he delivered a blunt and threatening query. “Bet with _who_?”

Morgana chuckled. “Ryuji.”

 _Of course._ He turned his attention back to the phone call where he heard what sounded like a girl talking quite feverishly. “Sorry. Is that Futaba in the background?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s talking to Kana-san in one of those ‘video calls’ you guys like to have.” Akira chuckled; happy she was talking to her friend once more.

“Maybe I should call you back at another time.”

“Nonsense, shop’s closed and Futaba is eating dinner. And I want to know how your day has been. _He_ hasn’t tried anything, has he?”

The ravenette glanced towards the ground but kept pace. He wanted to tell Sojiro about the panic attack from earlier but…he couldn’t. He would worry far too much and probably drive straight to town, and Akira wanted none of that. At least, not when he wasn’t sure how everything stood in his home life.

“No. No, he’s been gone all day. I went to visit my mother.”

“And how is she? Didn’t sound too well when you talked about it last night.”

“She’s better. Meds are doing their job, just have to wait.”The light in the sky was slowly fading out, the horizon a bright orange shrouded in violet and navy hues.

“That’s good. I’m glad she’s doing better.” The cold lessened as he walked, and since summer was right around the corner he didn’t expect this weather to last too awfully long. The teen spotted a dark cloud in the distance, signaling more rain was to come. He was already half way home, and it wouldn’t be too long before he made it there. Still he kept dragging his feet, walking slower the closer he got.

“How about you? What was your day like?” A huff resounded out, and the thief imagined the usual after-close cigarette Sojiro would have, tilted slightly in his hand.

“Same as always; usual customers, curry, and coffee. Still got stubborn kids hanging around my café.” Akira smirked a bit, just as he heard a young girl screeching on the other end in joy.

“And that’s such a bad thing?” The guardian let out a hearty laugh.

“All I know is my life was much less stressful before you kids showed up. It’s not so bad though…sure keeps me busy when the shop doesn’t.”

“Glad to be of service.”A few light sprinkles of rain began to hit the ground, and with it the teen cursed under his breath. “I’m almost home, rain’s coming down again. I’ll call you later.”

“Wait, don’t forget to tell Futaba we won the bet!” Morgana tossed in, receiving a glower in response.

“I heard the cat. Still chatty as always, huh?”

“Nothing new.”

“Alright then. Take care of yourself, Akira. If anything happens, and I mean _anything_ , you call me and I’ll be there. Got it?”

“Got it, Dad.” Akira felt a pang of nervousness flutter in his stomach, but it was drowned out in the next moment by pride.

“Okay then. Goodnight, son.”

“’Night.” Even as the line clicked dead, the warmth from those words kept him cozy the rest of the way home.

When the ravenette finally reached his house and walked inside, he wasn’t too surprised to find the door was unlocked. He had a horrid feeling deep within his gut that his father was home, but when he entered the front hall and shut the door behind him, the house was entirely pitch black. _Damn. Power outage?_ He thought to himself, knowing the nearest light switch was at the end of the hall to try and find out. He took his shoes off and navigated the hall from memory, reaching the corner which turns into the living room and continuing towards the kitchen before reaching out for the light switch. Once he flipped it, the living room lights came on, only to reveal his father sitting in the darkness of the room in his usual chair, elbows resting on his knees, a familiar book in his hands and eyes glowering dangerously at his son. They were only a few feet apart.

“Akira,” he spoke in an articulate, menacing tone, “where have _you_ been hiding?”

The teen stood still, glaring at his father despite a part of him screaming for him not to. Morgana leapt out of the bag only to plant himself in front of Akira’s feet, mustering a warning stance in case the man got too close, which the ravenette already thought he was _far_ too close.

“Anywhere away from you.” His father chuckled, a deep, hostile laugh that clawed at his son’s ears. The man turned the book in his hands over and over, before tapping a few fingers against the cover.

“You do love to disobey me, don’t you? Getting out of that closet was only a small feat for a delinquent like you.” Again he tapped his fingers on the book, which Akira finally recognized as his mother’s copy of _Arsene Lupin_. A pang of fear ran through his veins as his father stood, eyes narrowed. “I wonder where you got that from…?”

“What are you doing with that book?” The teen asked, just as the man took a step forward to the coffee table in the room, setting the book down upon it before taking a small rectangular object out of his pocket and concealing it in one hand. He turned back towards his son with a small smile.

“It was on your bed. Not exactly a great spot to leave a book lying around. It could get ruined if you’re not careful.”

“You went into my room?” Akira pondered aloud, never knowing his father to just do such things without permission.

“I was looking for you, after all. You just up and left, before your punishment was over too.” He couldn’t help it when his fingers curled into his palms, nails jabbing into his skin.

“Like you give a _damn_ about looking for me!” His father’s head snapped towards him, and the fire within those eyes were far beyond simple anger. Akira flinched back from the expression and back down just enough when his father turned and took a step towards him.

“You will _not_ raise your voice to me, _young man_. Finding you isn’t the point. But seeing this book in your room reminded me of something. I know you’re close to your mother, Akira, that’s not news. But you retained that rebellious nerve she had when she was younger. Some might call it bravery, but other’s like myself consider it willful disobedience. And this whole charade with you started as soon as you read this book.” His father took another step closer, and Akira had nothing but the kitchen and the stairway to back into, but he didn’t dare run from this man as long as those eyes were dead-set on leering at him. Morgana growled in warning, hissing at the patriarch’s feet before a bemused chuckle cracked through the air like lightning. A dangerous spark lit in his father’s eye, and Akira had to force his mouth to move in time.

“Mona, don’t-“ Far too late, the man took another step and without warning Morgana leapt into the air, only to be thrown across the room and onto the stairs, where he cried out in pain and landed in-between one step and another. Akira screamed his companions name before a hand landed firmly on his left wrist, dragging him forward from his stance near the kitchen doorway. His feet fumbled across the floor as he tried to fight against the vice grip on his arm, and was positioned in front of the coffee table with his father pressing his son against his chest, pinning the teen’s arms underneath his own where Akira could see the object the man had in his hand; a lighter.

“You see, Akira, your mother and those _friends_ of yours have managed to convince you this little phase of yours is okay. It’s not. And you’re going to learn the difference between staying in line and straying away from it.” The lighter was moved in front of Akira’s face, and he paused in his struggle only when the lighter was flicked on and the flame danced along to the thunder outside.

“You’re walking a _very_ thin line, Akira. Just like this flame here, there are multiple possibilities and ways to use it. When used correctly this flame can be controlled, providing power to the wielder, controlled destruction perhaps. But when it goes out of control,” the flame tilted in the book’s direction, a spark of fear growing to terror in the teen’s veins, “it will scorch and ignite everything around it until there’s nothing left. _I_ am that fire, Akira. So far, only you’ve gotten to play with that fire. But if you _ever_ try to escape me again, to run back to your so called ‘ _friends’_ or tell _anyone_ what happens in this house and I will set everything you care for ablaze with my flames. I’ll go and find those little friends of yours in Tokyo, the two blondes, the redhead with the headphones and the artist, the rich girl in pink, the café owner, _everyone_. Even that brunette you seem to like so much, what was her name? _Makoto_? I’ll find them, every single one and I will burn them to the ground, slowly and painfully. And I’ll make you _watch_.”

 Again the lighter moved around, and Akira’s father managed to swipe the book off the table during the struggle. The teen screamed out, a horrified expression from his father’s words plastered onto his face.  “Stop it!”

“There’s only one way to put out the flame, _Akira._ You’re going to prove to me you won’t make the _wrong_ decision, again. You’re going to make sure your little group of meddling friends stay safe. It you want them to be left out of it; you’re going to have to take the burn _for them_.” The flame from the lighter danced and began to move dangerously close to the book. Again Akira struggled, the hold on him far tighter than it had ever been before, and he only managed to get his left hand free before it tightened again, knocking the breath out of his lungs as he was nearly lifted off of the floor. He had to prop himself up on his toes just to breathe.

“Papa! Stop it, please, just leave them out of this! Leave Mama out of it, please, it’s her book you can’t just _burn_ it!” His father laughed into the air, and the book was brought even closer to the lighter. The thief could almost smell the paper burning when the man behind him whispered menacingly into his ear.

“Then stop it. Take the flame for them.” Immediately it clicked into place, what exactly his father wanted him to do. He had to stop the flame but taking the lighter or knocking it out of his hand would be problematic and hard to do. Trying to put it out quickly would only cause his father more rage. He was supposed to _burn himself_. Burn until his father felt he had learned, until he had proven himself capable of doing so. There wasn’t any other option or outcome his panicked state of mind could conceive, and Morgana was still lying on the stairs motionless. What if he was seriously hurt? What if this man set him on fire instead!? He didn’t want to risk someone else getting hurt because of his father’s rage. So quickly he reached out with his free hand and placed it in front of the book, right where the fire was about to touch it.

Akira screamed out, the flame’s heat seared and began blister and blacken his pale skin. The palm of his hand was a torrent of pain, nerves shooting out signals in every direction, all leading back to his brain to pull his hand away. He subconsciously tried to, a natural reaction to bodily harm, but his father held his wrist in place, continuing to keep the flame and his son’s flailing hand in place as he burned and marred his child’s hand. A few more seconds passed before the flame was snuffed out, and the agonizing cries from the ravenette pierced through the walls of the house to the pounding rain and thunder booming outside. The patriarch dropped his grip on the teen, watching him fall to the floor and cradling his hand to his chest. Tears fell like a waterfall and the man simply dropped the book next to his son’s trembling body before crouching down and yanking Akira’s head back, a pleased hum echoing through the excruciating pain that encompassed the teen’s entire left hand.

“Good, Akira. Now _never_ disobey me again, understood?” His father stood, leaving the room and ascending the stairs, only barely stepping over Morgana’s form upon them as Akira was left sitting on the floor, terrified and whimpering as his hand continued to sting and throb in torment.


	6. Null

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look an update that didn't take a month of procrastination to do!
> 
> You know the drill. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kO2B-dNm9tQ _instramental_
> 
>  **EDIT** _I revised the end chapter because honestly it wasn't as good as it should have been. It felt lacking in areas where i could have written things a bit better, and I ended up using an additional scene I opted not to the first time just to raise the stakes a little. Thanks to Izren for calling me out and motivating me to fix it. I hope it's better!_

_Pain. Pain-pain-pain-pain-pain-pain-pai—_

The words kept ricocheting inside of Akira’s head, blurring together into something incomprehensible among the noise of his mind. _Burning_. _Pain. Excruciating. **Pain**_ **.** _It hurts._ And it kept burning, hurting, the feeling so strong and persistent it was hard to think about anything else. The teen sat upon the floor stunned and whimpering, or was he sobbing, frantically trying to push the thoughts aside and move, crawl, anything to get him out of his current state. His hand was still being clutched to his chest, the pain spiking whenever he moved, breathed. The blood in his veins rushed to the spot of injury and caused it to throb in a steady, rhythmic beat. _Thump, thump, thump, thump— **Pain**_. The tears that continued to cascade down and drop onto the floor were just another instrument for the white noise that rang in his ears. He had to get up. He had to _move_. It hurts. It h u r t s. Move, move, move!

With all the strength Akira could muster he forced himself to stand; legs shaky with adrenaline and unsteady as he willed himself to stumble into the kitchen, thoughts still rampant and growing louder as he crumbled over the kitchen sink. With his uninjured right hand, he threw the faucet onto the coldest setting before dousing his injured one under the stream. It was all he could make throughout the commotion that made sense. Cold. He needed to cool the burning down, drown it in icy temperatures. That’s what you do when you get burned. You need to cool it down.

Relief was slow and rewarding, the noise inside the thief’s mind dying down as the pain ebbed ever so slightly. Moment by moment. Still he found himself in what he assumed to be a state of shock, his skin covered in beads of sweat but so pale and translucent he could see his own veins embedded in the flesh. He was panting, practically gasping for air through the sharp sting the tissue of his skin was giving off. His head was foggy, muddled with the overflow of sensation and he couldn’t remember exactly but had he been screaming? His throat felt raw as if he had been gargling nails. How long he had been on the floor trying to force himself to stand felt like comparing minutes to hours. Maybe it was only a few seconds. It only felt like a few seconds now that his hand was under the refreshing water, and vaguely through the liquid he could see the dark maroon of the burn. How bad was it? In his panic and terror he forced himself to remember the different degrees of burns. It all felt the same but it was the way the burn looked that would tell him how bad it was. Second degree has blistering and redness. Third would be charred flesh and numbness. Third degree would require a hospital.

Hospital? No. He couldn’t afford to go to a hospital for this. His mother was there, the nurses—they knew him. What if the one who his mother had check on him earlier was the one he would encounter? Surely they would tell his mother, and god, no, his mother _couldn’t_ know about this. Not now. There was still so much running through the ravenette’s mind. And his father, would he even allow his own son to get treatment for it? A small meow sounded out but Akira couldn’t register it. His hand was still under the water but he had turned the palm away from himself in his dread. _Please let it be second, please let it be second, I can handle that on my own, please, please, please, please—_

Slowly, trembling, he turned his hand over after reluctantly pulling it away from the stream of water. He starred at his palm and flinched at what he saw; deep scarlet flesh that was nearly as dark as his blood screamed upon his skin, blisters already forming and marring the tissue as he spotted a few blackened marks that seemed to dilute and wash away in the water. There was no numbness. The pain in fact returned tenfold as the warmth came rushing back, and Akira groaned as he quickly returned his hand to the comfort of the sink. A furry mass came into his peripheral vision, and he closed his eyes and felt his legs give way and he hit the floor with his knees hard. His right arm was supporting his weight as he leaned against the counter, resting his sweaty forehead upon it as he tried to calm himself down. The burn was second degree. He could work with that.

“…-Kira….Aki-….Answer me, Akira!” the familiar voice of Morgana finally breached beyond the still pounding heartbeat that was almost deafening the teen’s ears. He felt so tired, so exhausted, yet the pain still wailed upon his hand and wreaked havoc on his burnt out senses. He could feel the pressure of paws upon his leg, reaching up towards his chest but Akira couldn’t open his eyes just yet. It hurt to exist. Mona…Morgana, was he alright? The ravenette had to know. He had to make sure. It took a few tries before the teen could pry open his eyes and focus his vision down on the black and white pelt that stared up at him with those cobalt orbs, filled with concern and worry.

“Akira, what did he do!? You’re scaring me!” Mona mewled, his features bringing a pang of despair to Akira’s heart. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth refused to listen to his brain and again he could feel himself slipping into the void from earlier. Noise and nothingness mixed together, the kitchen began to swirl around and became just colors with no meaning. The sound of the water running and hitting the metal of the sink grew further away. As much as the teen wanted to slip into the darkness, away from the pain, he knew he couldn’t. He had to stay awake, stay focused. His wound…treatment. He had to get to the first aid kit in the bottom cupboard.

The thief grunted as he reached out with his free hand, the cupboard next to the doorway on his right was its destination. He whimpered when his injured hand moved out of range of the water for a few seconds as the teen struggled to open the door and drag the kit out of it and onto the floor. He had to put his hand back under the water and take a few more deep breaths, listening to his feline companion meow distressed words he couldn’t understand, before he yanked his arm back, closing his palm so Mona wouldn’t see the wound. He sat on the floor, opening the first aid kit and carefully finding the burn cream. Akira’s body buzzed with the lingering adrenaline, and he shakily opened the tube with the cream, drying the lingering drops of water off of the wound painfully, before he smeared the substance on the burn. The teen couldn’t hold back the high pitched moan he let loose, a fresh trail of tears decorating the floor and along with it he spotted a drop or two of blood. He hadn’t realized he was biting his lip because his nerves were already so shot from all the signals of agony he was receiving. _Focus_. He had to keep focused. It took a few moments to fish around for the right gauze roll, and unhooking it with one hand was difficult but he managed to carefully wrap the beige mesh around his hand and wrist.

 _There_. Akira sat back against the counter, breathing heavily and he couldn’t quite remember when the weight on his chest had begun to press harder, but it continued to do so. Morgana was still on high alert, mouth open and moving but still the teen could hear no real sound. Everything was white noise and the dull, almost annoying feel of the searing pain in his left hand. His heartbeat was quick, but not too quick as it reverberated through his body and the kitchen grew dark at the corners of his vision. All he wanted to do was sit still, allow the increasing darkness to take him. It wasn’t long before his eyes closed, everything went quiet, and the world fell to black once more.

When Akira awoke, he wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed. A few hours, a few minutes, it all felt the same as his head spun and the throbbing, dull pain his hand brought him forced the teen to consciousness. The room was dark, and he didn’t feel the hard wood of the floor underneath him. It was soft, comfortable even. When his mind finally shook off the fog enough to realize he was in a bed, his body reacted faster by forcing him upright in a near-cold sweat.

Upon darting his eyes around in the dim room, Akira recognized the familiar small bookcase and dresser that was a part of his room. He was in his own bed…? The ravenette found himself pondering, reaching his right hand up to his forehead and slouching further inwards as he tried his best to remember anything like walking back up to his room to rest. Nothing. Just the cold, frightening memory of getting burned…the kitchen…he passed out there. If he was incapacitated, that only meant one person could have brought him here: His father.

The idea only turned his stomach and caused him to choke on the shallow air he was trying to breathe in. That sick bastard had the _nerve_ to bring his son up to his room after everything he had put the teen through!? Rage and disgust ravaged his bloodstream, and he trembled in his own strong emotions before he instinctually grasped his phone that was still in his pocket. He unlocked it just to see a message from his father starring him down and dragging the dread up from the bottom of Akira’s gut. He hastily opened it with his single hand shakily, taking a few tries to do it as he rested his injured hand in his lap, sitting cross-legged on the bed before reading the text.

**Go to school. Don’t speak of your injury to anyone.**

The barking that resounded throughout the room was strange at first, until Akira noticed it was coming from his own mouth. He dropped the phone onto the bed before riding out the chuckles of despair and hate. This man thought he could get away with this event, make a threat of himself and scare Akira into submission?

“No. No way in hell.” The teen muttered under his breath, venom in every word as he continued in his thoughts. This man that called himself a ‘father’ had threatened his friends, his family. He had even hurt Morgana just to get what he wanted. The thief could only continue in his hysteria at the thought this wretched excuse of a _father_ could even comprehend trying to threaten his son’s companions. The entirety of the thieves were dangerous in everything they set their minds to. If this man were to so much as try and go after them, he would be struck down. Akira knew his team better than anyone. They would be safe, together, and there was no possible way his father knew where each and every one of his friends lived. Tokyo was a far away dream compared to the quiet town he lived in.

Akira’s only real concern was his mother, and Morgana…wait, Mona, where was he? The teen looked around but didn’t spot the familiar mass of fur that usually took up residence on his bed. Carefully, the ravenette stood from the bed and made his way towards the door, opening it just for a shadow to dash inside unexpectedly. He closed the door and turned on the light, remembering the time he noticed on his phone told him it was around five am, and turned just to see his feline companion rubbing up against his legs.

“Akira! You’re awake.” The cat purred in relief, making a figure eight motion around his leader before standing in front of him. The slate-eyed teen sighed in reassurance before walking over to the bed, sitting down and patting the space on his right for the feline to hop up to. Once Morgana did, Akira seized him and checked him over, pressing gently on his friend’s stomach for any broken or misplaced ribs, any signs he was hurt or injured from earlier.

“H-Hey! Akira, stop that! I’m fine! Would you say something already? You’re worrying me, idiot!” Fine indeed, the ravenette sighed with a faint smile on his face. Morgana was okay. That was more than enough for the thief as he slumped forward with his elbows on his knees, breathing in deeply to satiate his nerves.

“You’re alright….” Was all the teen could barely whisper, a faint wince following it when the pain randomly spiked in his hand. The cat only stood off to the side, a worried gaze settling on his friend before he nestled up against Akira’s leg, lying down with his paws underneath himself. The thief began to pet and scratch at his friends ears, hearing a quiet purr in the silence of the room as he continued to keep his breathing regulated.

“Your hand…he hurt you, didn’t he?” Akira simply allowed himself to lie back on the bed, resting his right hand on Morgana’s back and starring at the ceiling. The companion needed no answer. He already saw what had happened to some degree. And the ravenette was still tired…rest was the best option at that point. It wasn’t too long now before the teen had to go to school, anyways. He could be pissed off later, when his father was around to incur it.

The thief allowed himself to rest, not really sleeping but not fully awake either, for the few hours before he dragged himself up off the bed and quickly cleaned himself up for school. Morgana stayed quiet, watching his leader’s every move as he walked the house in his usual morning routine without his mother, without anyone aside from the feline. It unnerved him when he walked downstairs to the kitchen, seeing the mess from the night before had been clean up, almost as if it never happened… He even found the book sitting on the edge of his bookshelf that morning.

The teen knew he felt like the absolute bottom of the food chain in his current state, and when he chanced a glance in the mirror he could only see how grey his skin was, taking the bandage off of his face because it had outlived its usefulness. He also changed the bandaging on the burn, being careful to disturb it as little as possible through the winces and grinding of his teeth. It was as good as it was going to get, and his appearance alone was expected to cause him grief at school and he knew it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly like anyone in that town cared.

He was just the delinquent who caused trouble, after all.

The sun was already lighting up the morning sky as he walked, Mona in bag this time, to the building he tried his best to push to the back of his mind every day. The duo was only half-way there when Akira finally spoke above a whisper that morning.

“Mona…I need you to do something for me.” The cat poked his head out of the jet-black bag, curious but also slightly concerned.

“What is it?” He responded in his usual serious manner. Akira couldn’t help glancing down and looking his friend in the eye, dead focused to make sure the point got across in his message.

“For the time being, I want you to stay _very_ close to me, alright? It’s just like Tokyo. Don’t wander around the house on your own.  If my father threatens us you will _not_ attack him. If I tell you to run and leave me behind, do it. Do you understand?” He knew exactly what the feline would say; the same high-pitched mewl of disagreement he imagined inside of his head, when Morgana tried to argue the matter.

“What!? Akira, are you serious!?” The thief only turned to face forward, his expression of focused anger clinging to his face like it always had in the metaverse.

“Do you understand, Mona?” His tone was calm, centered. But there was a hint of force behind it. Controlled rage. Not directed at Morgana, but at his father. The cat fell silent for a moment, studying his leader’s expression before replying.

“Yes, Joker.” The teen relaxed a little, remembering he was standing tall and that he should probably start slouching again before they got to the school grounds. The rest of the walk was done in silence, but it wasn’t too long before the ravenette felt the light touch of whiskers on his left arm, and he simply smiled in reassurance.

The day went by rather quickly, despite how horrid Akira felt. It was summer now, and the heat from the hot days were smothering inside the school since of _course_ the air conditioning was acting up, _again_. It was bad enough that it bothered and stung at the burn on the teen’s hand. A few kids noticed the bruise on the thief’s face and decided to point it out one way or another, many making some sort of ‘delinquent kid’ joke. Many just ignored him and tried their best to forget he existed, and he rather that than the kids who actively made him out to be the best part of their school day. One student in particular noticed the gauze on the ravenette’s hand and reached out to grab for it, probably to show the entire class how the troublesome kid got into a fight again, but Akira was simply quicker and much more menacing. With one look that could rival that of Akechi, the student dropped the matter and opted to leave the room that afternoon unscathed.

Even the teachers seemed uncaring as to the state of his health. It wasn’t really news to Akira, though. Not with the way they only cared that he turn in his assignments timely and with a proper score. It was simply another day spent in this tiring and mundane town.

It was in the afternoon sun, the heat greatly improved with a decently cool breeze that allowed him some solace and comfort, that Akira remembered he was going to try to visit his mother again. He came to a halt on the sidewalk, pondering his options. On one hand, if he were to visit his mother then he would have to explain the gauze on his hand, the burn…he didn’t want to lie to her, but he knew once she caught wind of the event that there wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to leave the matter to rest. But on the other, there was only so much time she had left in this world, and Akira didn’t want to avoid her for too long and miss precious moments. Besides, going home there would be nothing for him to do aside from what his father expected of him, and he was grinding his teeth at the thought of going another day mindlessly listening to what his so called ‘father’ said. So after a few moments of thinking, planning, he turned down one of the alleys that would short-cut him to the hospital, Morgana in tow.

It was a far shorter walk from the school to the hospital, and the icy air inside of the building was welcome as he navigated the halls and made his way to his mother’s room, stopping for a vending machine coffee along the way. Akira knocked on her door once to let her know he was there, before quietly slipping in and turning the corner to her bed once more, a sleeping, gentle look on her face as he approached. Smiling, he sat down at the chair from yesterday and gingerly set his bag on the floor, Morgana hopping up onto the bed to curl up to the matriarch’s side. He pulled out his homework with his good hand, setting his notebooks and textbooks on the free edge of the bed before cracking open the lid of the coffee.

 He took a long sip, eyes focused on the work before him, before diving into it in the same routine he had whenever his mother was in the hospital. It had been a long time, and he missed the quiet he found with the white noise of the machines. For a moment it reminded him of when he was younger, when she first got sick and he spent every day he could sitting in the hospital with her, practically living there with her. Her steady breathing cut through the machines, and he was able to dive into his work without struggle.

It was only a few hours later, when his homework was finished and he was reading _Treasure Island_ , that his mother woke softly and smiled in his direction.

“Akira…good afternoon.” She spoke tiredly, stroking a sleeping Morgana a few times before setting herself up in her bed.

“Good evening, Mama. How was your nap?”He asked, closing the book and setting it down in just the right way he could hide his bandaged hand from her.

“It’s always peaceful when you’re here.” The both of them smiled, and his mother simply reached her hand out to settle on his bruised cheek. He closed his eyes and brought his right hand up to clasp over her own, leaning into the warmth. “How was last night with your father? He didn’t do anything silly did he?”

It took a deep breath and a silent prayer of forgiveness for the teen to say it, but the lie could have been far worse.”No. He just brushed me off again. I did end up burning my hand trying to cook in my weary state, though.” He then decided to briefly bring his left hand up, a faint smile on his face that seemed genuine out of practice, and she simply shook her head in amusement.

“Oh, Akira, you get so clumsy when you’re tired! It’s not too bad is it? It doesn’t hurt?” she took hold of his hand, and when he winced she sent him an apology with her eyes. He only smiled back to her and rested his hand in his lap once more.

“Well when you put it like that, you make me sound eight again. I’m fine, Mama.” The fib working, he took hold of the book and placed it in his bag with the rest of his school materials. Morgana’s ears popped up and twitched, but his eyes stayed closed as he was petted by those gentle, slender fingers once more.

“You’re still my little boy, Aki, you always will be. Your bandages look like they need changing though, are you sure you don’t want a nurse to take a look at it?”

“No, Mama, I’m alright. It was just a small burn from the stove. I grabbed a hot pan without a pot holder again. You remember the last time it happened, right?”

“Oh my! I remember exactly. You were only twelve and had such a long day, and so focused on those books of yours that you didn’t even noticed you grabbed that pot! You were crying for hours after I patched you up, and you ended up falling asleep in my room when all was over and done with.” He winced at the memory, resting his right hand on his left wrist before humming out a response.

“Mhm.” Akira nodded along, watching as Mona popped his head up tiredly and yawned. He got up and stretched, digging his claws into the sheets before hopping into his leader’s lap.

“Looks like Mona wants to go home. I’m sorry I slept through our visit, Aki.” Akira stopped midway of grasping the bag from the floor to stare at his mother.

“Don’t be. Asleep or not, every visit is worth it.” He allowed Morgana to climb into the bag, before he swung it over his shoulder and leaned over to give his mother a goodnight kiss on the forehead. She smiled as he stood upright. “I’ll come back another day. Love you, Mama.”

It was only when he had left the hospital room that Morgana spoke up.

“You lied to her about your dad.”Akira hesitated in his walking, glancing down sharply at his feline companion.

“He’s _not_ my dad. And I don’t want her caught up in this.” He kept walking down the corridor, the faint feel of a paw settling on his arm a strange comfort for the words that came next.

“You really care for her…don’t you?” Akira stopped in the hall, turning his head to gaze down into azure eyes. He waited a moment before nodding.

The next moment, however, someone had taken a hold of his arm and dragged Akira into the nearest exam room, closing the door behind them. He quickly reacted and ripped his arm away from their hand, the faint sight of crimson nails upon their fingertips as a brunette with her hair in a messy bun turned around, wearing a standard white nurse’s uniform. He stood there for a moment and made eye contact with her, starring down into her chocolate eyes as they narrowed slightly on his form. The sound of a _tsk_ made its way into the room, and she simply strode forward and pressed her fingertips into his chest, motioning for him to sit down on the exam table before turning and fishing around in one of the medical cabinets for a moment. He kept his stance of suspicion as he spoke.

“I’m not a patient here.” He spoke carefully, only receiving an amused huff in response. Morgana had long since dug himself into the bag, knowing his presence wasn’t needed and if he were to be spotted, the two of them would have an earful later.

“That hand and face of yours say otherwise.” The brunette pulled out a fresh roll of gauze and what seemed to be a tube of burn cream, and Akira raised his eyebrows in interest.

“And who put you up to this?” The woman turned around, a slightly annoyed look on her face as one of her strands of hair poked out from underneath her hat and into her face. She stared at him head-on before she grabbed the equipment and strode toward him.

“ _I_ did. I see a kid come in here three days in a row, each consecutive day with some new kind of injury. And low and behold, he’s got a cat in his bag! My bosses won’t like that, kid.” He grimaced and as she pressed her fingers firmly into his chest he sat down on the exam table without a fuss, but kept his glare fixated on her.

“I don’t suppose there’s a way out of this, is there?” She smirked and took his left hand into her own.

“The deal is simple kid; you let me treat your injuries and you walk out of here with your cat, and nobody gets kicked out of the hospital.” She started to unwrap the used gauze slowly, before her smile dropped to a small concentrated frown as she went on. “And no, I won’t tell your mom if you don’t want me to. None of my business, anyhow.”

Akira had an ultimatum. It wasn’t really a bad one either. But that didn’t mean he liked it either way. “’Preciated.”

“You’re welcome, kid.” The nurse said as she continued on, cleaning the wound with a wince here or two from the thief before applying new cream and gauze to the area. The slight burn that was there the whole day was practically gone now, and the teen couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped his throat.

“What’s your name?” he asked as she started to check his face, tilting it from side to side and checking the bruise with her scarlet fingertips.

“I didn’t give it. Don’t get the idea this is a ‘every time’ thing. Unless you’re admitted, that is.” He chuckled into the air even though it stung at the mark on his cheek.

“Well I’ll be sure to ask for you when the time comes.”

She stopped in her motions, looking down at his gaze questioningly, before she smeared some kind of cream onto the bruise there. A few seconds passed before she was placing things back into the cabinet again. “I hope that time doesn’t come, kid.”

He hopped off of the exam table and flexed his hand just enough to feel the burn under the effect of the cream, satisfied it wasn’t as bad anymore, before grasping his school bag and shouldering it once more. He took one step towards the door before a hand was on his opposite shoulder, causing him to flinch a little and turn. Something was shoved into his hand as he met the face of the brunette once more.

“Don’t forget your sucker for being cooperative.” He smirked back and twirled the plastic package between his fingers.

“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you? Reminds me of Takemi.” At the sound of the name, the nurse dropped her smile a bit and her eyes widened. She repeated the name under her breath, and the teen dropped his own playful façade for a second before she locked her eyes on his own again.

“You know Tae Takemi?” The hand on his shoulder softened a bit, and he turned fully and nodded his head in reply. She softened her gaze again, before hardening it with a smile. “Name’s Hikari. Don’t forget it.”

“What changed?” he dared to ask, still smiling playfully and twirling the lollipop in between his fingers rhythmically.

“You’re that kid she’s been hinting at, her _guinea pig_ she speaks so highly of, aren’t you? If anything happened to you…” the nurse trailed off, eyes clouded over for a moment of quiet speculation. She nodded towards the door soon after. “Take care of yourself. You owe me next time you get banged up.”

“Thank you, Hikari.” He soon closed the distance to the door, opening it an inch before turning his head to the side. “Name’s Akira. And I’m no kid.” He left before he could even hear her reply.

It seemed like a shorter walk home that day, from the hospital to his house, as he mildly sucked on the cherry flavored candy and thought about the possibilities Takemi had a friend who worked _here_ , in the middle of nowhere. Huh. Small world, he supposed. It was a good asset though. If his father decided to do anything worse than what Akira could handle…It was better to have someone to rely on while he was so far from Tokyo. And with the sun setting in the distance, and the feeling a certain someone would be home soon if not already, Akira maintained his rancor and kept a steady pace to his house.

It was already dark by the time he got home, noting there were no lights once more that he could see in any of the windows. He sighed before opening the door, entering the darkness before making his way down the hall and turning on the living room light. Nobody was sitting in the chair this time. The teen waited carefully to hear any sounds from the upstairs rooms, and indication his father was at home. Silence greeted him and he made his way up stairs, changing into more comfortable clothing in his room before making his way to the kitchen to make some semblance of dinner. It had been more than a few hours since he ate anything, and the past few days only made the feeling worse in hindsight. He settled on a quick, effortless instant ramen that was hiding in the pantry, scarfing it down ten minutes later.

Akira waited patiently, Morgana by his side, for his father to come home. He knew he could put confrontation off for longer, but he also knew the longer he waited the more difficult and painful it would be later on. This man wanted obedience? Ha. No, he wanted control of his son like some sick puppet to be cast aside when it’s no longer useful. That’s why he had… _burned_ him, after all. Akira shook the thoughts aside, the nervous feeling he had inside his gut only growing worse the more he thought about it. Things had changed so much in the ravenette’s absence. And he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but for now, getting his friends off the hit-list would do. And so the thief waited maybe an hour, maybe more, for his father to finally return home so he could say what he wanted to say without the sudden threat of abuse or violence. At least, not yet anyway.

When the ravenette heard the keys fiddling with the doorknob, he looked down towards a concerned Morgana and nodded. “Go.” Was the only word he spoke. And so the feline darted towards the staircase, up the stairs, and into the safety the darkness provided him. Akira stared at the hall where his father emerged, eyes focused with determination. The man set his work bag on the coffee table as he entered the room, his attention entirely on Akira even though he wasn’t looking at him.

“Akira, did you do as you were told?” The mundane tone of voice only caused the ravenette to grit his teeth together.

“Yes.” A small hum of approval rang out into the thickening air.

“Good.” The patriarch still wasn’t really looking at his son, but his ears were open to listening this once and the thief was going to make sure he was heard.

“We need to talk.” Akira spoke, not yet looking up from his stare at the patriarch’s torso. He was still trying to drown the slight fear in this stomach before it got too bad. The man stood silently for a minute before turning towards the kitchen.

“We can talk later. Go to your room for the night.” The teen clenched his fingers around the fabric of his sweatpants, still refusing to look up yet.

“No.” The floorboards creaked as the man turned in his half-walk state, just enough to look over his shoulder with a fiery gaze.

“No?” The teen breathed deeply this time, finally looking up at the sound of the menacing word. He stood from his seat and bravely stared his father in the eyes.

“Like I said, we need to talk.” The man huffed a breath but turned fully towards his son regardless, crossing his arms over his chest, annoyed.

“Fine. What is it?” The impatience in his voice spoke volumes, almost as if he didn’t have the time for such things. As if he hadn’t just _burned_ his own son the night before.

“About yesterday—“Akira’s father cut him off long before he could even finish.

“I keep my promises, Akira. Is that what you’re worried about?” The thief just hardened his gaze and flexed his right hand subconsciously. “How is your hand, anyway?” Akira simply gritted his teeth, ignoring the latter for the former.

“That’s just it; I’m not worried about my friends. I’d be more worried about you if you did anything you _promised_ to do to them.” The man tilted his head to the side, almost amused. The teen could even see a small smirk playing at his lips.

“Is that right? And what proof do you have of this? You’re afraid they’ll hurt me? Or are _you_ going to try something stupid again?” Now it was Akira’s turn to cut off his father. Standing tall, he spoke aloud just as he would have done in the metaverse.

“Afraid? No, more like I’m _guaranteeing_. You have no idea what my friends are capable of. And all the proof you need was in the papers every month last year.” His father _tsk_ ’ed at his son’s tone of voice, taking a step forward with contempt in his eyes.

“What are you on about? Does this have to do with you breaking your probation, the things even the court refused to tell us about?”

“Yes, that’s only part of it. You remember the ‘Phantom Thieves’, right?” His father was taken aback, but only slightly, as the ravenette continued on. “You know I was mixed up in that trial with Shido, who the Phantom Thieves took down. They only had their leader testify at the trial. Connect the dots.” The blaze in his father’s eyes grew with every word, until he was noticeably gripping at his upper arms hard in their crossing.

“And you expect me to believe all of this? That you were the leader of a group of terrorists?” Akira only huffed, smirking in his knowledge. His entire demeanor was radiating a sense of fierce pride, and his father took notice with narrowed eyes.

“Why do you think the court never told you a _damn_ thing about why my probation and record were cleared?” The thief practically whispered, slowly, making sure to enunciate every word carefully and with promise. With a seriousness that he knew his father would understand. After all, it was matching to the tone the patriarch had used the night before. A few moments in silent contemplation passed, before laughter rung out into the room, similar to barking dogs.

“So that’s what you were doing in Tokyo!? Getting yourself into more trouble and criminal activities? I knew sending you there would only incite more of this damned rebellion you’ve been embracing! And you were their leader!? That’s awfully cute coming from you, Akira. And the murders that happened? You were a part of those too, weren’t you?”

“Those murders were caused by Shido and his lackey’s! We were only helping those who had been wronged by society, by people like _you_ —, a sharp look was thrown his way but Akira didn’t care, “—and getting to the bottom of those psychotic breakdowns was a part of that. Not that _you’d_ know. Point being, they never arrested nor _can_ they arrest the other Phantom Thieves. It was part of the deal at the trial.” Another barking laugh came from his father’s mouth, and the teen could only leer in response.

“Aha! So that’s what this is about, you’re going to have your little criminal friends come after me, is that it?“

“No. I won’t even have to do that. But if you so much as lay one single malevolent finger on one of their heads, they will come after you like the flames of hell!” A hand was wrapping itself around the teen’s throat and lifting him off the ground just enough he has to balance his weight on his toes, gripping his good hand hard around the arm that was holding him there, trying to ease himself up enough to breathe.

“You say that like you’re so sure of it.” The hiss of the words met Akira’s ear in a careful, deadly whisper. Despite his growing fear, he brushed it aside to smile devilishly at his so called ‘father’.

“Seven against one aren’t even _odds_. I’d love to see you try.” He could only gasp as he was thrown back into the couch, landing hard on the floor from the force and grasping at his sore throat while trying to regain his breath. His father stood there for a minute, thinking with his fists clenched. A low growl sounded out before he even replied.

“I believe you.”The patriarch said, in a serious and sincere tone, before angrily kicking Akira in the stomach. Crying out, the teen gasped desperately for air as he was winded, crumpling on the floor in the torment. It was only a second later that the teen heard the crack of cartilage, something connecting with his face and a warm liquid spilling down his chin. He couldn’t see anything, eyes blurry with tears, wailing in pain. Hands quickly switched from holding his stomach to cupping his nose, just in time to open his eyes and vaguely see the man turning around and walking away, never once looking back at his son on the ground as he spat out the words on his tongue.

“That’s for back-talking. We’ll continue this at another time, Akira. Now get up and go to your room.”

Akira could only gulp down air for a few minutes, laying flat on his back and tilting his nose upwards in the air so he wouldn’t choke on his own blood. His face burned and his stomach ached, and recovering from the blow took a few minutes. When he finally found the energy to sit up and stand, making his way to the kitchen in a mirror of last night, he thanked the universe his plan had worked.  The ravenette had been cleaning the blood off of his face when the familiar patter of paws scurried his way.

“Joker! Are you okay?” The welcome distressed mewl warmed the teen’s heart, just as he painstakingly grabbed a rag and dampened it with water, holding it over his nose before glancing down at his feline friend.

“I’m fine, Mona.” He wasn’t, but he wasn’t sure he could tolerate Morgana’s banter with the sharp headache that was beginning to pound in his skull. The cat huffed, keeping a close eye on his leader as he walked out of the kitchen wobbly and towards the stairs. He needed a mirror to see exactly how bad the damage to his nose was. _Good thing I made a friend who specializes in this kind of thing…_

“You don’t look ‘fine’! As much as I hate your father, it wasn’t a good idea to provoke him! You could have gotten hurt worse than that!”

“It worked though, didn’t it?” The teen grunted, stopping on the first stair before glancing down at his friend. The cat stopped midway and nodded.

“You’re still too reckless. You’ve been like this since we faked your death…” The concern was present, but Akira could only faintly smile as he climbed another few steps.

 


	7. End of a Small Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **  
> **  
>  _NOTICE: For those returning, go back and re-read the last chapter's end. Some stuff was changed in a small update. It will lead directly into this one, so please make sure to get caught up on the fix!_  
>   
> 
> Ahaaahaha this chapter is long. Very long. A fitting update, and filled with a little of everything! 
> 
> Right click to loop, though you may not need to this time. Instrumental.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teu67ouuhNg

For the next few days after the confrontation with his father, Akira kept his head low and out of sight as the tension that had grown in his household began to wither slowly. He had made sure to visit Hikari the next morning before school, faking an early visit to his mother behind a hood until the teen spotted the same messy bun of auburn hair. To be fair, he only did so because he wasn’t entirely sure if his nose was broken or not. Had it been just a mere bloody nose like before, then he would have taken care of the matter himself. But still his nose ached and throbbed, had mostly stopped bleeding, and the markings of some lighter tan bruises decorated the area in various hues. When the nurse turned and spotted him, a _tsk_ made its way through the open sterile air before the ravenette was marched into an exam room promptly with the simple sound of a sigh.

“Would you believe if I had a run-in with an old ‘frenemy’?” The slight smile he gave her only seemed to make the brunette more annoyed. The drawer she had been searching through went back into the cupboard with a _smack_ and he had to wince internally, closing his eyes and telling himself that maybe now was not the time, as she strode back to Akira with a fiery aura.

“Only if that guy is paying your medical bills.” She turned his head side to side after he pulled the hood down, then tilting it back to get a more thorough look at the thief’s nose. She began to press her fingers around his nose, searching for any damage a trained professional knew to look for, and when Akira merely winced at the sparks of pain she smiled before pulling away.

 “Good news brat, it’s not broken. Your pride on the other hand…” The teen took her walking off towards some cupboard in the room as the sign he was in the clear, and he lowered his head and lightly touched around his nose.

“What are you talking about? I never said I lost to them.”Hikari simply barked a laughed before returning, pressing a cold compress to his nose with a sharp gasp from the ravenette.  The chocolate eyes held some form of amusement, but still some concern and annoyance as he stared back into them with his own slate ones. He watched as they darted to the side where his school bag was to find it without something from the day before.

“Where’s the cat? It didn’t jump out and run off somewhere in the hospital, did it?”  Now it was time for Akira to hum a laugh. He held the compress to his nose for a second longer before pulling away, the cold chill on his skin waking him up more than the coffee had that morning.

“No. He’s waiting outside for me. Thought it would be better to not get my mom’s nurse in trouble.”

“Smart move.” She crossed her arms, looking him up and down for a moment. “If that’s all you needed looked at, you had better get your hide to which ever school you’re supposed to be headed to.”

The teen nodded before hopping off the exam table, making sure to move the compress away as he spoke. “What about payment?”

“What payment?  You’re Takemi’s patient; I’ll just take it up with her and drinks sometime.” Akira stopped in his tracks, imagining Tae having a drinking buddy. He had to chuckle at the thought, re-positioning his bag on his shoulder before straightening up and bowing his head her way.

“I’m sure she’ll have me test some new drug when I get back to Tokyo.” Just as the thief was about to turn to leave, a thought occurred to him. “How do you know Takemi, anyway?”

Hikari wavered in her smirking smile, looking away for a moment before she spoke. “Went to the same med school she did. Also saved my hide once or twice. I owe her as much.” Again he nodded, turning and opening the door just as she shoved something into his hand. Again he found himself with a lollipop. He could only look up perplexed as she laughed, raising her hand to hide her smile. “Gosh, your face! I told you, kid, don’t forget your sucker.”

He just smiled in return, pocketing the treat for later. “And I told you, I’m no kid.”

The ravenette was only part of the way down the hall when he heard her call out to him. “When I see you next it better be because you’re visiting your mother, Akira!”

The next couple of weeks passed in relative stride, his father much too busy with work to be home and when Akira wasn’t visiting his mother in the hospital, or going to school, he was keeping up around the house and convincing Sojiro that _no_ , he did _not_ need to drive all the way out to see him. Or be anywhere near his father. _Yet._

“Your mind sure is made up about this, isn’t it?” Sojiro’s tired voice came from the other end of the phone just as Akira was writing down an answer on his homework. The café owner had begun the healthy habit of randomly checking up on the teen over the phone, making sure he was eating well, asking how his mother was, and if there had been any more ‘incidents’. The ravenette welcomed the increase in contact with the guardian, but sometimes his persistence and timing on the matter was more likely to give the thief a headache than anything else. Besides, as long as Akira kept his head down and did as he was told, for now, them nothing particularly eventful was to happen anyways. And he didn’t want Sojiro to be physically there for it, or incur whatever wrath he may from the teens father (mostly a worry here or there that the patriarch would end up doing something drastic, such as saying Sojiro was harassing the family and so on, and then that would only make matters worse).

The teen nodded into the air before remembering to reply. “You know me, Dad. I’ll be fine.” Akira had gotten used to using the word affectionately, as long as his biological father wasn’t around. A simple, surrender-like sigh came from the line, with what the teen imagined was also the smoke from a deep breath of a cigarette. “Besides, I’ll be coming up for summer break anyway. You’ll get to see me for yourself then with the rest of the gang.”

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me—I’ve been meaning to ask but Futaba is so engrossed in her new, uh, what was it called again? ‘ _Super Featherman Deluxe’_ game to answer me coherently. “ Akira was caught in a troubling math problem, half-heartedly listening before nodding his head along to conversation, all the while twirling his pen around in his hand. “What’s your favorite color?”

The twirling stopped, and all concentration on the problem was lost as he blinked and ran the question over again in his head. _What’s my favorite color?_ Why did Sojiro want to know? It was a few more seconds before Akira registered he had been silent for too long and he had to hot-wire his brain to form words again. “…It’s crimson. Why do you need to know?”

“Ah, just been wondering for something down the line.” _Uh-huh_. Akira slowly spun the pen around, glancing from one line of text to the next of the instructions, all the while thinking about what that could mean. ‘ _Something down the line’_ …what, like, a present for his birthday or something? That wouldn’t be for a long while yet. Maybe he was over-thinking it; it wasn’t like the café owner was asking him something strange. It dawned on the teen exactly how much he had never told Sojiro about himself. Setting the pen down, and feeling kind of bad for never mentioning these kinds of things before, he gave his full attention to the phone call.

“Alright. By the way, what did Futaba answer to the question?” A strange huff came from the other end of the line, and shuffling was heard before a reply came.

“She gave me a post-it note with _#DC143C_ on it. Do you know what that means?” It took a few moments before the numbers clicked into place, his hunch proven right when he typed the numbers into the search engine on his phone, and Akira couldn’t help the laugh he gave out. A questioning ’huh’ was heard from the guardians mouth before the thief explained.

“She gave you the Hex number for Crimson, Dad.” The ravenette let out a few more quiet laughs after hearing an ‘oh’ from the other end, thinking about how that kind of thing was exactly something Futaba would do. The call ended shortly after, and Akira went on with his day.

A few more quiet and mundane weeks passed before the subject of summer break was brought up again, twice. The first time was with the weekly check-in’s and calls with his friends, who were all excited and planning events here and there in Tokyo, wanting to show Akira all the new changes and improvements that had been happening all around. The second time, however, was with Akira’s father. It was also out of nowhere.

“Summer break is coming up. You’ve been preparing for your tests?” Akira had been in the kitchen when his father came home, cleaning up from a small meal _alone_. It was strange to be in that house without anyone but Morgana to talk to, and as much as the feline was appreciated there was only so much of Morgana that the teen could handle in one day.  That, and the routine the two kept where if the both of them weren’t together, then the companion was in one of his hiding spots napping or out of sight from the patriarch. The teen glanced in his father’s direction before answering.

“Yes, sir.” He remembered to at least show some degree of respect that had been common before everything with Shido, and it appeased the man’s rage somewhat. A quiet hum of approval could be heard, before something that caused the teen’s head to turn in full.

“Good. The day summer break begins you’ll be attending extra summer classes, don’t be late or decide not to show up, understand?” The running of tap water rushed to Akira’s ears for a moment, seeming to screech as he reached to turn it off and stare at his father dumbfounded.

“Wait, what summer classes? I never signed up for those.”  His grades were perfect. There wasn’t any need for summer classes, or so Akira thought. The man walked out of the room and disappeared into the living room, and the thief dried his hands hurriedly and followed, confusion evident in his demeanor.

“You didn’t. I did.” Akira’s father rummaged through his work bag, pulling out papers before handing them to his son haphazardly. The teen nearly dropped them to the floor. In looking them over, he noticed they were the registration papers for the summer courses. “It’ll give you something to do that won’t get you into any trouble over the month.”

“But I’m going to visit my friends over summer brea—“Akira inhaled sharply when his father stood tall and gave him a look of stern annoyance.

“Visit your friends, the terrorists? No. I don’t think so.” The papers were ripped from the ravenette’s hands as he gaped slightly, before he frowned with a determined stare and brought one hand to rest on his side.

“You can’t keep me away from them forever.” A small chuckle lowered the atmosphere in the air, and the man stepped closer to his son, staring back with contempt in his eyes and what almost appeared to be a challenge. The tension grew dangerously thick as the teen kept eye contact stubbornly, and the man replied.

“Watch me.” The thief gritted his teeth as the man walked away without another word. Of _course_ he would pull something like this. It was just another clever way to keep Akira under close supervision and far away from any real semblance of happiness. Scenarios ran through the teen’s head like wildfire. If he tried to skip the classes the teachers would know and they were already adamant about every small thing Akira did wrong. They wouldn’t have a problem calling his father and telling him about an absence. Hell, he was sure they would even fight over who would be the one to do it. And another month stuck within the stress and increasing tension in his house was an absolute nightmare.  The ashen eyed teen was already counting the days, the hours, even the minutes before something caused his father to snap at him again. What would he do this time? Broken bones? More burning? He was tired of waiting, expecting some form of punishment he didn’t deserve, and his friends had all been so excited for his return. Makoto especially.

God, Makoto…he missed her; the vague scent of her body wash and shampoo as she passed by him. Her hand intertwined with his, her face blushing away embarrassed but yet she still kept her firm grip on his hand. Those lovely, beautiful, _perfect_ ruby eyes gazing into his own. He could almost feel her there, next to him, if he closed his eyes and thought about it long enough. And if he focused hard enough, he could also remember exactly how her lips melded with his own in a sweet kiss.

The world began to spin a little and Akira had to force himself to sit down and breathe.

He was shaking, riddled with anger and growing hatred, anxiety filling his gut to the brim, ready to burst at any given moment. Akira had to grip the edge of the couch seat hard to keep himself steady, the world gradually spiraling around him. A faint mewl came from somewhere, maybe the back of his head where the pounding of his heartbeat drummed against his skull. Again the mewling clawed raw in his ears, and he winced at the sound before something fuzzy came into his vision and hopped up beside him on the couch cushion and ran it’s flank against his arm. The teen had to blink back tears of frustration before quietly, slowly, lying down on his side on the couch and pulling Morgana’s form into his stomach.

“Akira? Are you okay?” A quiet meow broke the silence, and the ravenette could only answer by tightening his grip on his companion. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, trying to keep his center, trying not to dissolve into a mess of stress-induced tears. Eventually he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

“I’ll never be okay…not as long as I’m around _him_.”

More time passed, he wasn’t entirely sure how long, but it was a good few days before he could really feel what was happening around him again. It wasn’t until the day finally came when his mother could come home that everything started to feel less numb.

His father was long gone, already at work for the day, when Akira had gone to the hospital to meet his mother and take her home. The process felt slow, but was actually quite quick, and she was glad to finally be back home once her bags were unpacked, new medicines already sorted with her other daily pills and instructions from the doctors very clear. She was bubbling with energy that day, talking often and interested in what her son had been doing while she was gone. He was happy she was in such a good mood, but then the dreaded subject came up that he wished she had avoided at all costs.

“So, Aki, what are your plans for summer vacation? You’re going to visit your friends, right?” The teen wasn’t exactly focused on the small amount of cleaning he was doing, but when she brought the topic up he hesitated in his movements greatly.

“…About that…” He started, slowly, turning to glance at his mother. She was tilting her head in confusion, a purring Morgana in her lap as he continued on. “I’m…I’m not going to Tokyo over break.”

“What? But you told me you were going to visit over your breaks!”

“I know, but, plans changed. He won’t let me.” The realization in her eyes hurt, and the stern look she gave after that was cause for concern as she sighed and stopped in her motions.

“ _He_? I swear, that man is such a headache! I’ll talk to him, Aki. Don’t worry about it too much.”

“Mama, I don’t think he’s going to change his mind on this one.” She laughed, almost bitterly, and he just stood as his mother continued on.

“Nonsense! He’s shown himself capable before, he can do it again. You need a break from all the stuff you do around here.” The ravenette sighed, setting down a rag he was using for dusting before turning back towards her.

“And you need to rest. Having a huge argument with Papa right now isn’t going to help.” She huffed, continuing the motions of running her fingers along the grain of Mona’s fur, and the cat merely flicked his ears up to let them know he was listening.

“Just let your mother do what she does best.” Is all she replied with, and Akira had thought he heard the end of the topic.

 At least, until a few days later, when he had stumbled across the two in the kitchen one night. It was very late, if not early morning, and Akira had been exhausted studying for his coming exams. The teen had fallen asleep and awoke with a slight headache and the desperate need for a glass of water. Begrudgingly, because he was comfortable and warm in his bed next to Morgana, the ravenette crawled out of the blankets and stumbled out of his room. There were no lights upstairs on. He had simply thought everyone was asleep. But when he rounded the staircase he noticed the kitchen light was on.

 _Strange_ , the slate eyed teen thought; since he was sure he had turned it off before going to his room for his school work that night. Perhaps someone left it on? He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he took a few steps down, but stopped near the bottom when he could hear talking from inside the room.

“—and you plan to keep him here over summer break? That’s not fair and you know it.” The hushed, but reprimanding voice of his mother hit his ears, and Akira was almost instantly awakened from his daze.

“At least when he’s home he’s not getting into whatever trouble he decides to stick his nose into! Do you even know what he told me just a while ago? He was the leader of those ‘Phantom Thieves’ in Tokyo! And when you think about it, and I think about it _a lot_ , it makes sense, doesn’t it? Why they never said anything to us about that trial or how he was cleared of the assault charges?” His father’s voice rang clear, and with it was more emotion than Akira had heard from the man himself in a long time. Annoyance and frustration was thick in the air, it seemed.

“Kazuko, you’re overreacting again. And even if he was their leader, doesn’t that make him a hero?”

“Are you really going to justify his behavior like that!?” The patriarch raised his voice, in an almost disbelieving tone that made the thief wince and pull back into himself. He was concerned, but more for the sake of his mother than anything else. Arguments like these usually started before the real fighting began, and it had been an awfully long time since he had seen his parents fight physically but that didn’t mean he was used to it by any means.

“Well, I’d rather he have been mixed up trying to take down someone who was murdering people and driving them mad just to become Prime Minister than join the Yakuza or something!  And you doing what you have doesn’t help things!”

“Oh? And what have I done that wasn’t something he deserved for stepping out of line?”

“Violence only makes him hate you more, you know! And what’s with this ‘stepping out of line’ nonsense? You’re starting to sound like a drill sergeant. He hasn’t even done anything wrong!”

“Saya, he’s constantly back-talking, getting into trouble with the law, and god knows what else he has up his sleeve!”

“And so your answer to that is to start hurting him!? You should talk with him about it, not start a war. I still remember a time where you never would have done such things to your family, but I can’t believe you would hurt your own child like that! What you did to him was wrong and you know it!”

“And what exactly did I do that was so wrong? You remember how it was when we were kids, a slap here or there worked wonders for us.”

“Damnit Kaz, you didn’t just hit him, you burned him!” The realization that his mother knew about his injury, and the truth behind it, caused a pang of grief in his heart. He hadn’t exactly noticed when he had pushed his back up against the stairway wall, trying to hide any sign of his presence and maybe, just maybe fade into oblivion. But he pressed himself flat and tried his best to stay calm, and get ready in case anything were to happen should he need to step in and get his mother out of there.

“And who told you this? Akira!? How can you believe a word that comes from his mouth when he never even told us about the mess he made in Tokyo!"

“Akira doesn’t have to tell me anything, I’m his _mother,_ I know when my son is lying to me! The fact he had to do it at all because of you sickens me. Whatever this _thing_ is you’re holding a grudge against him for, it needs to stop! Now I know you blame me for a lot of the things that have happened in our lives together, but don’t you dare think that you can start taking it out on our child! You’re his _father_ , Kazuko, you need to start acting like one.”

Footsteps crashed into white noise, and silence befell the room. A moment passed, and what had felt like the air rushing out of Akira’s lungs came tumbling back in as he realized he was on the bottom stair, so close to being in the kitchen when a quiet, almost whisper-like voice continued on. He peeked in to see his father standing in front of his mother, her head to the side as she returned it to center and looked up at her husband, a pained look on his face and a stern, worn one on hers, along with the fresh marking of a handprint on her left cheek.

“…This is exactly what I’m talking about, Kaz. Akira is going to Tokyo for summer break, if not to visit his friends, then to be away from _you_.” A heavy cough came from her throat, her fragility rushing back to the forefront of the teen’s mind. “I’m just a sick and dying mother and wife. I’m not going to be here forever to keep the both of you from ripping off each other’s heads.”

“Saya, don’t talk like that…” Genuine concern laced his father’s voice, and it was so rare and so heartfelt it almost made Akira think he was imagining such things.

“You need to be able to have a healthy relationship with Akira on your own. And it starts by making sure he is nowhere near you while you figure yourself out! If I have to hear him lie to me again about something you did to him…” She couldn’t finish. She was already crying, but trying to continue the conversation only made her coughing worse off.

Akira didn’t stay long enough to hear what happened next. He was already sneaking back up the stairs and shutting the door to his room, in a daze of raw emotions and searing pain where his heart beat in his chest. His mother quite literally took a blow for him, and as he sank to the floor in the darkness he could only silently thank her before letting a few quiet tears fall in the aftermath.

It was week prior to summer vacation when his father begrudgingly pulled him aside one night while his mother was asleep, practically pinning the teen against the upstairs hallway and with a stern glare and a hand on his shoulder. Akira simply narrowed his eyes in thought before an annoyed sigh escaped his father’s throat.

“She’s un-registered you from the summer classes. Convinced the school it was some mistake, and since your grades are top of your class that there was no need for such things.” It took a moment to react, and when Akira did, it was in an unexpected manner. He laughed, smiling in spite of the hardening grip on his shoulder before he regained his composure and stared his father directly in the eyes. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”

The patriarch leaned in close, close enough that the whisper to Akira’s ear felt more like a hiss. “If I hear _anything_ about you causing trouble in that damned city, were going to have a major problem, understand? Just because you have your mother’s favor doesn’t mean you have mine.”

“I’ve never had yours.” The teen breathed out, daring to do so, and the sharp look his father gave him sent shivers down his spine.

“And as long as you keep up that attitude, you won’t. Do I make myself clear about your little trip?”

The hand that had been gripping at his shoulder was practically digging its nails in at that point, and it was hard to hold back the wince forming at the back of the ravenette’s throat. He simply kept his father’s gaze and nodded in understanding. As soon as his father let go, and disappeared down the hall to the master bedroom, Akira rubbed his aching shoulder, sighing. He was honestly surprised by the outcome. His mother had a way with his father that even he didn’t fully understand. In some small way, he was weakened by her.  The thief could only marvel at the effect before retiring to bed that night.

Soon enough summer vacation came, and with it a exciting relief to be as far away from his hometown as he could be. Exams were fairly easy, although headache inducing and Akira had more than enough confidence in his top-of-the-class grades. The ravenette’s mother was also joyful, watching and helping out in her good mood with the small amount of packing he had to do. Much of the standard stuff he had brought to Tokyo had stayed there aside from clothes and some souvenirs or two he brought home with him.  Morgana was ecstatic at their coming return, the feline going off about how he was finally going to be someplace ‘not boring’ and how he would soon get to see his ‘lovely Lady Ann’ again.

This time, when Akira went to the train station to depart for Tokyo, he wasn’t alone. Surprisingly, and more of a worrying thought than anything else, his father and mother accompanied him. Sure, his mother was one thing, and she had felt badly for not being able to see her son off the first time, so much that nothing was going to stand in her way this time around. But the patriarch was an entirely different thought. He had barely spoken a word to Akira the entire drive to the station, and as the thief grabbed his duffle bag of clothes and Morgana in tow, showing his ticket to the boarding clerk, an even more surprising thing happened.

“Akira.” His father beckoned him to the side, and the wary teen huffed before deciding to get the nagging over with, but was dumbfounded to hear the words that actually came out from his father’s mouth.

“Just, stay out of trouble. And stay safe, alright?” It took a few moments, going over the last part in his mind, and perplexity was in full swing as the ravenette mumbled a subtle “Okay.” in reply.

 _Stay safe_? That was new. Maybe something his mother had said ended up clicking with his father after all. In looking at his father eyes there wasn’t a smoldering fire within them. There was no malice to be seen at all. There was only slight concern and…guilt? The teen couldn’t help the look he gave his father, lips parted slightly and eyes wide open. Morgana had even popped his ears out of the bag that was hanging from the thief’s right shoulder. Soon the train’s call for boarding was heard, and it snapped Akira out of his daze just as his father nodded a silent goodbye to him. His mother smiled at the two, giving her son a tight hug before watching him board the train with a sly grin.

The entire train ride was a blur, in between answering frequent texts from Futaba for when he would arrive, Ryuji asking if he was already there yet or not, Sojiro calling and making sure he was on the train safely and Morgana’s chatter from the bag as Akira continued reading _Arsene Lupin_ to the amazed feline. They had finished it a while ago, but the companion had enjoyed it enough that re-reading it was his request for the train ride. And in between all of the noise, all of the anxious excitement, the teen thought about how strange it felt for his father to be…nice to him? It was one of the reasons he had even gone back to his hometown, to work things out with his father. But for a while there he had been utterly convinced it was pointless and that when he finished his year of school he would up and leave and hopefully never see the bastard again.

But maybe the ravenette had been wrong. Maybe there was room for change. After all, it wasn’t like the metaverse existed anymore, and if his father did have a palace or some form of twisted heart it wasn’t like Akira could just go kick some shadow ass and steal it. This was reality as it had been before the mystical, magical ride of being a Phantom Thief. If he wanted his father to change he would have to approach it differently after all. And the fact his father was somewhat _trying_ helped matters for the better. He was open to change. Akira was puzzled, concerned, but also just a little happy. Maybe after summer break his father would _talk_ to him. Maybe they could work things out after all.

Hours dwindled down to minutes left on the train, having to change the line a few times as he remembered doing the previous year, and the comfort of knowing he wasn’t going to Tokyo for such dire circumstances certainly helped. And he couldn’t wait to check in and visit with everyone he met the year before, too.

Takemi had been working on some new medicine and he was more than happy to try it for her, knowing anything she made herself wasn’t going to do him much harm at all. It turned out Futaba and Kaoru were in the same class at Shujin as first years, and they got along quite nicely to Iwai and Akira’s delight (It seems they got along more so because of their shared family backgrounds, and knowing home was most certainly where the heart is, and not with bloodlines helped immensely.) Chihaya’s fortune telling business was going well and Ohya had been a mystery aside from the occasional check-in and how there was hope for Kayo’s mental state. Kawakami was also supposedly doing well, especially since Futaba ended up in one of her classes, and he heard she had even started an after-school study program that helped some of the students out in other areas of their life. Akira admittedly hadn’t had the time to talk with Yoshida at all. Apparently there was still a lot of clean up to do in the Diet and Yoshida’s party was heading that, and that sure made the teen feel better in the long run.

Shinya and Hifumi made sure to keep in touch, and from what the thief could gather he heard both of their maternal relationships were improving and getting better. Hifumi was even winning more Shogi matches on her own merit, and Shinya had ended up becoming good friends with that group of kids who had caused him some trouble. Mishima was still refining and preparing for the documentary he was making, and had become better friends with Ryuji and another classmate while Akira was away. (Really, that loveable geek needed more friends other than the ravenette) And from what Makoto told him, Sae was thriving being a Defense Lawyer, and although she didn’t always win her cases, she represented her clients with pride.

The rest of his friends who made up the thieves had much to share, but were more insistent on showing and telling him in person. That was perfectly fine with Akira. He missed just sitting down with them and listening to their daily lives, talking with each one in their own special way. The train was finally slowing down, arriving at the platform. Everything that had been rushing through his head came down to the teen closing his eyes and after stepping off the train and onto the platform, Morgana in tow, simply listening to the white noise and familiar atmosphere of Tokyo. He was already walking forward, maneuvering to the outer part of the station. His friends had all insisted they meet him at the station, not the café, but when he came to the agreed upon area near the famous crosswalk in Shibuya only a familiar brunette stood tall, smiling, waiting for him.

“Welcome back, Akira.” Her sweet, cheery voice spoke, and the ravenette couldn’t help the genuine smile he gave her. Saying nothing, he simply strode forward and embraced his lover in his arms, a kiss he had been dreaming of for months the only reply. It was long, and slow, and he smirked when the red started to rush to her face and a few passerbies’s scoffed or began to stare. When he finally forced himself to pull away, setting his hands on her lower back and just gazing into her cherry irises, she locked her fingers together around his neck and returned a smirk.

“That was quite the ‘hello’.” She tilted her head playfully; a little bolder than when he had seen her last.

“I missed you.” Was all Akira dared to breathe, wanting to savor the moment for a little longer and he brought his right hand up and moved a stray hair away from her face, inhaling her scent that immediately sated his nerves and melted into her presence.

“I missed you too.” She touched her forehead to his, and he allowed another few moments of quiet embrace before he pulled away, snaking her hand into his before another glance around provoked a query.

“Where is everyone?” Makoto just smiled and led him into the familiar platform that lead to Yongen-Jaya.

“I may have sternly convinced everyone that I was to fetch you _alone_. They have a whole month with you, and when we get back to Leblanc I know I’m going to have to share you with them. I wanted a little time with you all to myself.” They had both passed the line gate and were just about to board the subway train as she had spoke, and he noticed the shy glance she gave towards the floor near the end of her explanation. _Still as cute as ever_ , he thought, just nodding his head along until they were both on the train. He opted to stand, and so did she, as they found a part not particularly packed to ride out the next half hour or so.

“You can always ask, you know.” She narrowed her gaze playfully, leaning into his form with a content sigh as he brought his right arm around her, comfortably.

“You’re not the only one who gets to steal things around here. Besides, I’m in need of practice.” The chuckling he gave off was interrupted by a familiar mewl of annoyance, and he mentally cursed as he remembered the feline in his duffle bag.

“Jeez, can you two get a room already?” Makoto glared daggers at Morgana as he popped his head out of the bag, ears splayed back a few hairs and something swishing around in the bag let Akira know he was batting his tail around.

“You realize we’re going to one right now, right?” The slate eyed teen retorted, and Makoto could only laugh a little as the cat bristled.

“The whole of the café doesn’t count!”

“No, but the attic where the party is, does count.” Morgana just hissed and Akira couldn’t help a laugh, scratching the feline’s ears in apology which made his fur flatten back out to normal.

“Well, Boss closed the café today for your arrival. So, technically, the party is downstairs with everyone else.”Akira just gave her a blank glance of betrayal, and set his chin on the top of her head before sighing.

“Is Sae coming to this ‘party’? She could use a break from work.”Makoto lowered her head a little.

“Sadly, no, but I am bringing a plate back for her. She sends her well wishes, though.” _Good enough_ , the ravenette thought.

“Well then, more of you for me.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him with a sly smile, her hand that was still gripping his left squeezed a little.

“I’m not leaving your side the whole night, are you sure you’re ready?” Akira just grinned to her.

“You say that like it’s an option. I’m not giving you one.”The rest of the quiet ride to Yongen was filled with mild chatter and much of her close embrace.

When they had finally arrived, the sun was just beginning to set in the sky, and the summer heat was slightly uncomfortable on the walk to the café. Still they held hands, bouncing off one another’s topics of conversation and general enjoyment of one another. Morgana popped his head out of the bag and perked his ears up, mewling with delight as they both were spotted by some of the locals of Yongen.

“Akira? Is that you? It’s been a while!” one of the usual customers of Leblanc has said in passing. It was a little surreal to notice how Tokyo and those he had met here actually noticed and took interest in his absence. It was a stark turnaround from how he was received back in his own hometown. In a way, Yongen was more like home than that place ever was.

“Makoto, is there going to be any fatty tuna at the café for my grand welcome home, perhaps?” She nearly rolled her eyes at Morgana’s usual banter.

“Yes, Mona, Boss will have something for you too, don’t worry.” He began to babble on and off about what that ‘something’ was, and Akira had to chuckle in delight knowing his friend was happy to be home, too.

The café door soon came to face him, and Makoto nodded her head for the ravenette to go first as he opened the door and stepped in. The familiar chime of the overhead bell, followed by many people saying his name caused him to smile greatly.

“Hey Akira!” Ryuji immediately ran up to the thief, slinging his arm around the ravenette’s shoulders with a wide grin. “Welcome back!”

“Akira, you’re finally home!” Ann stood from the booth seat she had been sitting in, quickly finding her place at his side and embracing him in a tight hug before standing beside him, practically bouncing. Her hair was a little different, he noticed, in that she was wearing it down without her usual pigtails. It surprised him for a moment, but he didn’t have time to stare as the next round of friends flooded over to him.

“Akira, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Yusuke said, standing off to the side with Futaba on his right.

“AKIRA! Oh, where’s Mona!? Is he in the bag? Give him to me; I need to touch his ears!” The red-head began to babble, and she fished the screeching cat out on her own and spun around for a minute, Morgana reeling in despair as the older teen patted her head.

Haru soon came up behind the two, and as the feline found and opening, Morgana ended up jumping into her arms to escape the mauve-eyed girl below. “Hello Akira, and Mona! How was the train?”

The ravenette just smiled and hummed contentedly. He did notice, however, that Sojiro was nowhere to be found. Everyone was buzzing around him as he walked forward, leaning against the nearest booth to allow people to sit back down where they had been before. The café was in its usual state, and the warm and cozy vibe that accompanied the scent of the spices and coffee in the air brought him back to everything they had done the year before. It was another moment or so before he spoke.

“We’re missing someone.” Ryuji tilted back in one of the bar chairs, a pondering look on his face.

“Oh, yeah, Boss had to grab a few things. ‘Said he’d be back soon.” Futaba nodded her head frantically in agreement, still eyeing Morgana with a sly, devilish smile.

“Yeah! We’re having a party here after all, everything else is ready. We were just missing the _key_ party item. Well, one of them anyway. You’re here now!” Ann added in, twirling her left index finger around in one of her long strands of hair.

Akira nodded, and when he flexed his fingers around the strap of the duffle bag he thought better of it and decided he had better put it upstairs for now.

“Alright. I’ll be back, going to set this upstairs. Nothing party-wise up there, right?”

“Nope, party is down here dude.” Ryuji replied, stretching his arms up behind his head, just as Futaba, who hadn’t quite sat down yet, ended up tagging along behind their leader just until the staircase railing.

“Upstairs?” Futaba sounded out questioningly, more to herself than anyone else. The ravenette turned back to her for a second, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes?” The tiny girl shook her head side to side and instead opted to keep whatever it was to herself, just cryptically replying in return.

“Secret. I’ll leave it to the boss man to tell you.”He just shrugged and turned back towards the top of the staircase. It was only when he was part-way up the stairs when he heard the redhead make a strange noise. The thief was confused for a second when she reached out over the railing and grabbed at his hand, pulling him forward a little and when his eyes found what her mauve irises were set upon, his heart dropped to his stomach.

The burn mark had healed quite nicely, but it was still pink and noticeable, and every now and again when he slid his fingertips across it the tissue felt similar to a scar. Hikari had been adamant that as long as he took care of it with the cream she gave to him that the burn would disappear with time. Futaba narrowed her eyes sadly, before peering up at Akira with concern.

“Akira, what happened to your hand?” She whined, upset. He had to force his spiking anxiety down and opted for the usual reply he had practiced with such things, and he had already told Morgana that nobody was to know about the incident with his father, _period_. Still he caught a glimpse of the feline with his ears dropped down a little as the lie rolled off of Akira’s tongue expertly.

“I burned it while cooking, Futaba. It’s alright. That happened a while ago.” She still whined in the back of her throat, holding onto his hand gently when Haru overheard the conversation.

“Oh? Akira, you hurt your hand?” The small mild chatter between the others died down when the auburn-haired teen spoke, and all attention turned to him.

“What, dude, you got burned or somethin’?” Ryuji’s voice raised a notch in concern, but Akira kept calm and smiled slightly, raising his other hand in the air and making a gesture that they should settle down.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing to worry about now.” Futaba reluctantly let go, believing the lie. And when Yusuke popped the topic on how sometimes burns can create interesting and visually-appealing scars, which then ricocheted the topic into some debate over the matter, Akira used the distraction to disappear to the attic.

When the teen got to the top stair, in looking around, nothing much had changed. It still looked the same as when he left back in March. The table was cleared off, a little dusty in his absence, and the desk had been squared away too. The bed was empty of any blankets and plain sheets lay cleanly folded on top, just as Akira remembered leaving it. He did notice, in going to set his duffle bag down on the table, that the box he left behind with his items he wished to keep in Tokyo was gone.

“Hm.” He hummed to himself, turning around the room and thinking about anywhere else he could have accidentally left it. It was nowhere to be seen. Akira decided to take a few minutes to look for it, after all, there were some important things within that box such as his bedding and spare clothes he had gotten in the city, toiletries and a few things for Mona. His old glasses were in there, too.

In the few minutes he spared, he looked under the desk, the table, near the bed, under the table near the stairway railing, on the old shelf where the box _should_ have been, and glanced among the junk in the far side of the attic to no avail. _Where could it have gone?_ The only other possibility was that it had been moved somewhere else, but, who would move it and why? It must be in the attic somewhere…

When Akira heard his name being called from down the stairs he decided to give up and walk back down, hearing the tail-end of the door chiming and in finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, turning to see Sojiro walking into the café, a medium sized box in his hands which he set down on the booth where the girls were huddled together, sans Futaba who parked herself on a bar table in her strange crouch. When the teen and the guardian made eye contact, and Sojiro stood with a smile on his face, the ravenette could only grin and rush over to deliver a hug to the older man. He nearly knocked both of them over by accident, rushing a little _too_ hurriedly into the embrace.

“Whoa, take it easy, don’t go knocking me over just yet.”  The hearty laugh that the thief could feel vibrating from the café owner warmed his heard, and he just basked in the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cologne that the man usually tracked with him everywhere. He was in his usually white-and-pink outfit, too. “Welcome back, Akira.”

“Thanks, Dad.” The small slip came at a slightly annoying cost, as when the teen realized it and the small blush came running to his face pulling away from the older man, Futaba began to grin wickedly and Ryuji stopped in mid-conversation with Yusuke only to spurt out a reply.

“Wait, WHA!? No Way! For real!? I lost my bet! Come on man, you couldn’t just call him ‘old man’ or somethin’? OW!” Ann had ended up reaching out and smacking the other blonde on the arm, in her slight annoyance.

“Ryuji, cut it out, loudmouth! What bet are you talking about anyway?”

“Challenge completed! Mona and I are the winners, fork over the yen, bozo!”Futaba leaned in close, Morgana mewling with smug delight as the blonde sighed and fished out his wallet, shoving two-thousand yen into the bespectacled girl’s hand with a grimace.

“You three made a bet over Akira calling Boss ‘Dad’?” Makoto crossed her arms, intrigued but not amused. All three tilted their heads nervously before Yusuke chimed in.

“Does that mean Sojiro is your father? I did not know such things.” Akira was already attempting damage control, opening his mouth to speak and putting his hands flat in front of himself, gesturing to wait as Haru brought her hand to her chin and spoke.

“There is a resemblance between you two, when you think about it.”

“They both have the hair color and the eye color, and they both wear glasses—hey, wait a minute! Akira, where are your glasses?”Futaba had suddenly realized, and Akira supposed the rest of them had as well, because it suddenly clicked he was not wearing the spectacles he had worn the entirety of last year to everyone in the room.

“Whoa, really? Dude I hadn’t even noticed!”

“The light shines off of your eyes better without them. I wish to capture this look on canvas; I only wish I had brought some with me today.

“That’s right, your glasses are missing…” Akira was already closing his eyes, sighing a little before he responded.

“There’s no need to wear them. They served their purpose.” Sojiro gestured for the teen to sit down, and he did just as Haru continued on.

“No need? Did you start wearing contact, perhaps?” He smiled in her direction before replying.

“No. I didn’t wear them for my vision. I wore them to blend in.” Ann and Ryuji shared a look, knowing about the so-called ‘secret behind the glasses’. Makoto knew as well, so she didn’t speak up when Haru made a small ‘oh’ noise and Yusuke nodded in agreement. Futaba glanced around from one side of the booth to the other, before the gloom was getting a little too heavy for Akira’s tastes. “So what’s in the box?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Sojiro started, he having disappeared behind the bar and into the kitchen to grab a chef’s knife, rounding the counter and returning just in time for the reply. He set about opening the lid to the box, revealing what looked like a rich dark-chocolate cake with red strawberries pressed into pinwheels of white frosting decorating the top. The guardian waited a moment, letting the quiet teen marvel at the cake for a moment before beginning to cut the first slice and set it down on a plate that came from a pile on the center of the table. He then set the plate down in front of Akira, and with a warm smile on his face, said “Welcome home.”

The party crept on with warm smiles and a light atmosphere. Conversations went from a few quiet laughs to arguably loud. Hearing all about Akira’s friends and what they had been up to while he was away made him brim with delight. Futaba had been doing excellently in school, making new friends and keeping in touch with old ones. Yusuke was faring well in his paintings, even doing so much as to have won a few exhibits over the spring and summer. Ryuji had actually been keeping up with his studies, mainly because he had a lot of help from Ann and Makoto in her spare time, and his leg wasn’t giving him any trouble due to his rigorous running. The thief couldn’t even spot the limp anymore.

 Modeling was going well, and Ann was on a more friendly-rivalry with Mika. Haru had been going to a college out of Shibuya that specialized in the food industry, and she was learning all sorts of new techniques and trick for gardening there, and had even been working at Leblanc for practice and kicks, helping Sojiro out when Akira wasn’t there to do so. And then there was Makoto, who was already flooring her peers and teachers with her hard work in training and studying at a famed police academy in Tokyo. Akira was particularly proud of her, knowing her goal and what she was determined to become, and he knew she would be a fantastic leader in her own right one day.

Hour by hour the night dwindled down to a comfortable day-dream.  Morgana had been asleep on Haru’s lap for a little while, until she had to leave to attend to something in her home garden. Ryuji and Ann were practically snoozing in one of the booths before Yusuke, who had picked up on social etiquette a lot more since Akira had last seen him, shook the two awake and quietly spoke to them after noticing Makoto and Akira in their own seat, having snuck to one another a while ago. Sensing that it was probably a good time to retire for the night, the three said their goodbye’s and promised to be by again tomorrow for something they had planned with their old leader. Sojiro had been cleaning up and keeping an eye on Futaba who was typing away on her phone half-heartedly, eyes drooping as she leaned on her elbows into the bar from her strange crouch on one of the chairs. All the while the evening was dying down; Makoto and Akira were snuggled together, side-by-side, just enjoying one another’s company.

It was only when the ravenette, in his own half-asleep daze, felt a tap on his shoulder that he opened his eyes enough to notice the brunette next to him had fallen asleep in his arms. But the tap came from his opposite shoulder, and when he turned in that direction to see Sojiro smugly smirking at him, the teen couldn’t help the light flush that ran across his face.

“Falling asleep here too?” The older man asked, and Akira didn’t have to think about it much. He nodded in agreement, setting his chin on the top of Makoto’s head and shifting the hair band she wore a little out of place. “I know you’re comfortable but, you can’t sleep here. It would be a little rude to make your date do so too, you know.”

Akira agreed with that, but Makoto was already in such a peaceful sleep. He ended up brushing a stray hair from her face, straightening up a little to force himself awake. He didn’t want to disturb her too much, but waking her up to try and go upstairs wouldn’t be wise because he hadn’t the time to set anything up. She was in such a sleep that when he shifted her back into the booth and pulled away, she didn’t even register it. The thief was planning to square his room upstairs away but in remembering the box, he ended up glancing back as his guardian tiredly with an idea to ask the man.

“About that…have you seen the box that I left here with my old stuff in it? I couldn’t find it earlier.” Sojiro raised his eyebrows for a moment, chuckled, and then nodded his head up and down with his eyes pleasantly closed, amused.

“I’ve got an idea. Come with me, I’ve got something to show you.” This time, it was Akira’s turn to be amused. He raised a brow when the older man got up and started towards the front of the café. The teen waited a moment to follow, and when he did they ended up walking outside and to the Sakura household.

The house was the same as he vaguely remembered it, Akira thought, and the cool night air shook the sleep from his system. A few thoughts ran through his head, thinking maybe Futaba had felt lonely without her ‘key item’ there and carted the box to her room for safe keeping and to just feel some semblance of his presence. It wasn’t like she hadn’t taken to fishing through his clothes before, finding something that was too small for him now and claiming it as her own, and just for kicks he had let her. At the time anything and everything helped to get her out of her shell, and she had taken such a liking to him that over the time they spent together, they became more reminiscent of brother and sister than mere friends. So when Sojiro led Akira into the house and down the main hall, the ravenette was puzzled when they passed Futaba’s room entirely.

“Huh?” The word tore itself from Akira’s throat, raspy and still betraying his exhaustion from the day. Sojiro just motioned for the teen to come forward, and down the hall they went. There were three more doors down the hallway, and when the ravenette tried to remember what they led to he realized he never actually found out. Futaba’s room was first in the hall, on the right side. Two more were in the left, a fair amount from one another, and then a final room all the way down to the right, where the hall ended. Sojiro led him last the two rooms on the left, and in passing one of them he could smell the faint scent of his guardian’s cologne that he normally wore. Once they were at the room at the far end of the hall, did Sojiro stop and turn to the teen, blocking the view of the plain wooden door just as Akira brought his right foot back and tapped it on the floor, a hand in his pocket and confusion apparent in his form.

“It took a while to get this ready, but, I figured it wouldn’t be wise of me to let you stay in a dusty old attic with no heat on your visits. And since Futaba isn’t…well, the way she used to be, I thought it was about time I got to this.” When Sojiro turned and opened the door, and realization struck the teen, he was already being led into the dark room, and when the light was turned on it was hard not to gasp at the sight before him.

Off to the left side of the room was a bed, a little bigger than the one he was used to in the attic, with bright crimson sheets and a comforter already made up upon it. A dark cherry wood desk was on the right, almost new looking and a simple wooden chair was tucked neatly in to match. A few simple shelves for books were hung-up, and upon them were the books Akira had left behind. A simple dresser was against the beige wall nearest to Akira, a foot or two away from the light switch, and he assumed his clothes were already inside of it. And on the wall next to the bed hung _Desire and Hope_ , the painting Yusuke had gifted to the ravenette and in how sudden it was, opted to keep the painting in Tokyo with Sojiro until he knew he could bring it home without accidentally ruining it.

Akira stood there for a few moments, starring. His mouth was still hanging slightly open, and when the teen remembered to breathe he simply turned his head to the man who had set all of this up. The smile and slightly-nervous laugh Sojiro gave to the thief seemed to break the silence, and Akira had to force his mouth to move, a little more open and shut, then open again, before he could even talk.

“Well? I hope it’s okay with you, I mean, you can still stay in the attic if you want. I just thought you’d be happier if you were staying somewhere proper.” Akira didn’t hesitate; he simply grinned widely and dove into a tight hug, surprising his father figure. Sojiro returned it with a chuckle just as the teen buried his bright ruby face into the older man’s chest, feeling the laugh reverberate between the both of them.

“I’ll take this as a ‘yes’.”Akira pulled away just enough to tilt his head up and smile.

“Thank you, Dad.” The ravenette pulled away, raising his right hand to fiddle with a stray cow lick of hair, glancing over the room again with satisfaction and pride. He was almost overwhelmed. Sojiro did this for _him_? A whole room of his own, inside the Sakura household! What Futaba had been hinting at earlier clicked into place, and he silently thanked her for not spoiling the surprise for him.

The two ended up walking back to the café to retrieve the two girls who were asleep (Sojiro had at least locked the door before they left) and so Akira could run upstairs and grab his duffle bag, Morgana following suit to his own surprise (Sojiro had also set up a small area for Morgana in the room, mainly just a few cat toys that the feline _refused_ to admit he loved to toy with). It wasn’t long before the group, Futaba kicking her legs back and forth on the bed with a sly smile, and Makoto who was pleasantly surprised and grateful at the event, ended up falling asleep—Makoto and Akira in the new room, door shut and entangled with one another privately, and Futaba and Morgana in the redhead’s room.

A few more days passed in a quiet, happy tandem as Akira spent some much needed de-stressing time with his friends in Tokyo. The group had a good few planned out events to attend, but when he wasn’t spending a day with one specific person out and about in Tokyo, or visiting one of his confidants and checking in on them in person (Takemi especially was intrigued, because Hikari had simply mentioned Akira in passing and knowing his mother. She also thankfully left out the part about all of the patching up she had done for him) he was helping run the café with Sojiro and Haru.

It was also one of these days, early into the vacation, that something Akira never counted on happening came true.

It was a usual quiet day at the café, closing in around noon. Haru had taken the day to tend to her garden, since harvest was closing in soon and she wanted to make sure the tail end of her crop’s blooming went well. Akira was in the kitchen, stirring a batch of curry and making sure it was turning out well, when Morgana, who had been watching him cook, ended up perking his ears from his spot on the floor near the teen’s feet. Suddenly, and quite literally out of nowhere, the cat mewled and darted past Akira’s legs, startling the ravenette enough that hadn’t even realized his left hand ended up getting a little too close to the pot. Almost nearly as soon as it came into contact with the hot metal, the thief yelped in pain and recoiled back from the stovetop, causing Sojiro who was behind the bar counter to stop what he had been doing and come over to investigate.

“Hey, you alright?” The guardian asked, a hand on his hip but concern in his eyes as Akira held his own hand close to his chest. It had barely been on the metal for a second but it was burning twice as bad as it should have been. The ravenette couldn’t help the slightly worried expression he gave, and when he remembered how healing burns reacted to heat worse than other wounds he silently cursed himself when the older man simply walked over and gently took the teen’s hand into his own for inspection.

“Let me s—“Sojiro cut off, starring at the fading but still recent burn mark on the child’s hand. It didn’t take him long to jump to conclusions, the right ones at that, because no less than a second later he was giving Akira a stern look that demanded a correct answer. “How long have you had this?”

It was no use lying to the man, and Akira knew if he tried to avoid the subject he would only end up making the café owner mad. And he had enough pissed off people in his life at that point in time. “Two months.”

“This wasn’t an accident either, right? Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Akira knew the answer to that well enough, but having to explain how he was afraid his real father would lash out at those he cared for only caused the words to get caught in his throat. In a somewhat lucky way though, he didn’t have to, as for when he heard Morgana screeching at the front door and the bell chimed letting the three know someone had arrived, Akira peered over Sojiro’s shoulder only to widen his eyes in confusion and anxiety.

There, just inside the café enough to let the door close behind her, was Akira’s mother. She stood with a smile, looking around and spotting her son with a starry happiness in her eyes. Her hair was down, but not as messy as it usually was, and she was dressed fairly casual, a pretty light fuchsia blouse complementing what looked to be a comfortable pair of dark jeans, and instead of her usual slippers she actually wore black flats. Akira only reacted after Sojiro dropped his hand and turned towards the woman in mild greeting.

“Sorry, we’re on lunch right now—“

“Mama?” Akira breathed, never even realizing he was cutting Sojiro off with his soft words, and his mother simply tilted her head with a hum. The guardian, upon hearing the words, let out a dumbfounded ‘huh!?’ and before he could even ask anything, the ravenette was already rounding the counter in a rush and checking to make sure this was _real_ , that he hadn’t indeed lost it and gone crazy. That his mother was there in the flesh should have been a heartwarming thing, but instead it only brought him worry. How did she get there? Had something happened? Her health quickly came into mind and he noted she at least had her large bag she kept with her that contained her medication and anything else she may need. Akira never thought she would be able to travel such a long distance without breaking, and the doctors all said the stress would be too much on her body to handle. So when he finally reached her and she simply set her hand on his face, knowing exactly what was going on through her son’s mind, she sated most of the concern right away.

“Mama, how..?”

“Shush, pumpkin. I’m fine. And yes, I did bring my medication, I didn’t forget anything. Now don’t you worry about me right now! Gosh, you look so handsome in an apron! Oh, you must be Sakura-san! I’m Akira’s mother, Saya, it’s a nice to meet you.”Sojiro had ended up following behind Akira, and he just smiled and put his hand on the teen’s shoulder.

 “Sojiro Sakura. A pleasure, ma’am.” He bowed his head to her respectively, and nudged Akira to try and get him out of his state of disbelief.

“Mama, here.” He ended up taking her hand gingerly, afraid that if he gripped too hard or let go she would vanish, and led her to the nearest booth seat to rest. She settled in comfortably, and Akira sat opposite of her in a wary state of perplexity.

“So this is the café I’ve heard so much about? It’s quite rustic and tranquil; I can see why you like it here.” She started off, and as much as Akira wanted to talk about the mundane, he was more concerned if she was alone or not.

“Mama, how did you get to Tokyo...?” She chuckled a little and replied with a playful smirk.

“I took the train, dear. You seem so surprised.”

“You came _alone_?”The teen rushed out, voice rising slightly before his mother nearly rolled her eyes and continued.

“I am my own person, Akira. I don’t need permission to do something like come and visit my son. Besides, you needed the break from your father.”

“But does _he_ know you’re here?”The almost quiet, slow way he said the sentence made it serious enough.  Morgana had patted on over into frame and sat near the edge of the seat closest to her.

“I left him a note, don’t worry.”The way Akira’s jaw nearly dropped open to argue caused her to put the joke aside. “As in, yes, he knows, and I didn’t give him a choice in letting me come or not. That mutual friend Sakura-san and I have in common is around here, they’re letting me stay for a few days. Surprise!”

“Mama…”The ravenette could only sink into himself and sigh, though he was somewhat happy she was there, he couldn’t help the dread knowing she really shouldn’t have done something that could be detrimental to her health.

“I see where he gets the rebellious side from.”Sojiro finally cut in, standing politely near the bar with his arms cross, half-amused.

“And most of his looks, but I’m pretty sure he got his father’s height and eyes.” Akira only shivered, not really liking how the conversation was turning into his mother bragging about him to Sojiro, but the man merely laughed and poured a glass of water from the counter, bringing it over to the teen’s mother and setting it down in front of her.

“The better parts anyway…” Akira mumbled more to himself than anyone else, but the way Sojiro turned his head just enough let the thief know he had heard him. The ravenette waited a moment, thinking, tilting his head to the side while starring at the table before standing.

“Well since you’re here, there are some books I meant to bring back for you. I’ll get them while you and Sojiro talk. I know you want to.” Akira was taking off his apron when he gave a side glance to Sojiro that let the man know this talk was probably for the best, and the teen was already typing away on his phone stealthily as Sojiro was beckoned to sit down with Saya. She nodded in Akira’s direction, and when he passed by her she whispered a small ‘thank you’ before he headed out the door. When the teen was far enough out of sight of the door he checked his phone and the message he sent to Futaba.

**Do you still have the wire tap on the café?**

She had already replied.

**Depends. Is there a yakisoba in it for me?**

**Always. Can you link it to my phone so I can listen in privately?**

It was only a moment later when Akira had reached the Sakura household, and he was fishing out some ear buds he kept on hand for this kinda thing, when the bespectacled hacker answered.

**Aye Aye, Captain!**

In a few seconds his phone was already opened to some kind of voice channel, and when he heard the sound of his mother’s voice he was already disappearing into his room to listen.

_“I wanted to thank you for looking after Akira this past year. I know it hasn’t been easy for him, especially when it was piled on top of all of…this.”_

_“You’re welcome. Sure gave the kid a scare when you walked in though, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”_

_“He just worries about me. The doctors say long travels are bad for my health, but I at least wanted to come out here once. I’ve got this feeling that I don’t have much time left. I think he can sense that, too.”_

A sigh was heard coming from Sojiro, and Akira could tell it was one of his more upset ones.

_“That’s an awfully dark thing to think about.”_

_“Well, when you’re in my condition, everything is a factor. You’re aware about his father, yes?”_

There was a brief pause before Sojiro replied. _“Yeah, something like that. How bad is it?”_

_“I don’t know…Akira won’t tell me anything, but I can tell it was getting worse when I was away. I came here mostly to ask you that, when that time comes, if you’ll be there for him. I know it’s not right of me to ask, and in all honestly it should be his own father that helps him through the matter. But Kazuko is still figuring this whole ‘parenting’ thing out. I don’t expect it to be anytime soon, either… He never used to act like he does to Akira, but ever since the arrest he’s been different. Colder, distant. At least after the last time we talked, Kaz calmed down a bit and is trying to be better, but I fear when I’m not around he’ll do something stupid.”_

Another sigh leapt into the air, and Akira wasn’t sure if it was his mother’s or not.” _I just want to know that when, or if it happens soon, he’s got someone to help him through this. Can I ask this of you, Sakura-san?”_

Only a moment passed before the café owner replied. “ _For that kid, anything. You have my word.”_

“ _Thank you. Oh, and before I forget, here. Take this.”_ Something sounded like it was being slid over the table, and the ravenette had to listen hard to the quiet of his mother’s voice as she continued, just as white static overtook the line and it began to cut in and out.

 _“This is for—trust you’ll—to him later.”_ Akira cursed silently, rushing to grab the few books he needed before leaving his room to return to the café. He tried to continue to listen but the line soon went dead, and he had to make sure to let Futaba know something went wrong in her device. He made a mental note to try and figure out what his mother gave to Sojiro as he jogged back to the café hurriedly. By the time he walked in, the deeper conversation was over, and the two were talking about other matters.

The conversation bothered Akira; exactly why his mother came to Tokyo aside from simply visiting rubbed the teen the wrong way. But he was at least inclined to believe is she was in good enough health to visit without any huge problems, then she would be fine. The visit was short and sweet, and the thief was insisted he should show his mother around Yongen and Tokyo, as long as she wasn’t too tired from her trip to do so. Morgana snuck around, keeping close to the ravenette and the matriarch, on some slight alert and awareness. Maybe he was worried about Akira’s mother, too. Soon the conversation was lost to the back of the teens mind as he spent time with her, which he had desperately wished to do the year prior.

For those few days his mother was there, Akira was at least content she got to experience some of the same stuff he did, and meet with Sojiro finally, something he wanted to happen for a long time. All of his friends were pleased to see her again, and Makoto especially was doted on during her stay, strong vibes of “ _She’s the one!”_ apparent in his mother’s attitude. The final day was long and relaxing, and due to a slightly strange feeling in his gut the thief made sure to spend the entirety of it in her company, just the two of them watching the sunset in the park, something she had told him about doing in her younger years that brought her great happiness.

And just like that, she left for home. Akira had accompanied her to the station, glad she had a good time and for the whole of the trip, seemed to be in some of the best health she had in years. She took her time before leaving him, a gentle hand on his face, a mutual ‘I love you, too’ exchanged, and a scratch to Morgana’s head as goodbye, then she was gone. Akira’s life went back to relative normalcy as summer vacation egged on, and thoughts of his father and mother died down during all of the commotion his friends brought with them. Lively and bustling was his world, but still he made sure to call her every few days to check in, making sure things were alright.

It wasn’t until the last week of the month that everything went to hell.

The café was busier than usual, and with the smothering heat from outside, inside felt a lot worse knowing the café was really only cooled down when the front door was open or Akira was up in the attic taking a small break near the open windows where the breeze hit just right. He had been busy for the entire weekend helping out, and Haru’s help improved the situation but she was only available some day of that week due to trying to keep her plants hydrated and safe from the heat. One day in particular slowed down enough it was practically a crawl, and Akira had just finished tendering a customer who took a simple iced coffee to go when the teen realized he hadn’t made a phone call to his mother in a good few days. Sojiro was behind the bar, sighing in the heat when the ravenette thought of the call.

“Is it alright if I take a quick break? I need to make a call.” The guardian nodded his head, and Akira took off his apron and put it on the simple hook on the wall before escaping upstairs to where he would hopefully sound less exhausted from the heat wave in the breeze from outside.

He was already at the top stair when he was dialing the number for his home phone. It rang and rang, and when she didn’t pick up the first try he frowned and simply thought she must have missed it by a few seconds. Akira tried the call again but still no one picked up. _She’s always home for a phone call…unless…_

The ravenette instead, this time, called the hospital knowing that every now and again she would be admitted for some minor thing and the nurses knew them well enough to know he would try that option next. It’s not like he hadn’t done it last year.

When the line picked up, and a familiar brunette’s voices met him, he smiled a little and addressed her by name.

“Ah, Hikari. Sorry to call for this but, is my mother in today?” A gasp from the end of the line worried him, and at first he thought something was happening on the other end before the nurse said his name in an almost choked tone. “…Hikari?”

“Akira…you…you don’t know!?” Red flags were rising, and with them was a torrent of concern and unsettlement.

“Don’t know what?” The line went quiet for a few excruciating seconds, and the teen couldn’t help how his heart was spiking in his chest, pounding louder in his ears each new second that passed. “What happened?”

“Akira…Your father didn’t tell you? Your mother, she…she was admitted a couple of days ago, four or five at least. There was some kind of infection left over from the pneumonia; it ended up spreading to the rest of her system. They couldn’t get to it in time. Your mother…she passed in her sleep a few days ago. God, I’m so sorry Akira. I’m so sorry.”

 _Dead_. The world wasn’t quite spinning, but the slow-down in time caused a similar effect. The breath that left his body felt cold, stinging in his throat as a familiar ache engulfed his chest. His mother was _dead_. She had _been dead_ for days. And his father...his father never once called to tell him?

 _No_. This couldn't be happening!

_They're lying! She can't be...no!_

_Dead. D e a d._

The world was spinning now, a deep and excruciating despair filling his gut and spreading throughout his system. He felt numb and icy to his surroundings, the heat he felt from the weather lost as his mind ran around in circles, chasing itself, trying to wrap around the words. _Dead._ _She’s dead_. A voice and footsteps echoed up the staircase, but when they reached the top and the thief was ripped out of his numb stupor, the phone he had been holding slipped to the ground with what seemed like a deafening _crack_.

“Hey, thought you could use something cold to drink so I brought you a glass of—Akira?” When his name was said, the teen turned his head slowly over his shoulder, the tears only now becoming apparent as they fell from his face. The guardian was quick to catch on, setting the glasses down on the table nearest the railing just as the force of the knowledge and knowing yes, this _was_ reality, and it was no dream, caused the ravenette to shake violently. Sojiro closed the distance between the two, and as a hand was gently placed on the teen’s shoulder he couldn’t help the whimper he let loose into the air.

“Akira? What happened?”

He couldn’t answer. Instead he just gripped tightly onto the guardian’s shirt, a violent scream of agony ripping from his throat as he allowed himself to crumble and crack, every feeling, every emotion crashing together inside of him. Raging, destroying, with the chaotic flames and the drowning effect of his entire world falling apart around him, Sojiro caught Akira as his knees buckled and he found himself rushing to the floor. Arms encompassed him tightly as he continued to wail, tormented by the truth and terrified of what was to come next.


End file.
